


if music be the food of love, play on

by sentientaltype



Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Literary References & Allusions, Single Parents, Slow Burn, addy is dating slocum but like. come on., beth is a single mom, cheer coach!addy, lots and lots of twelfth night allegory!, teacher!beth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentientaltype/pseuds/sentientaltype
Summary: After eight years, Addy Hanlon is back in Ohio, but she's not in Sutton Grove anymore. After taking a new coaching job across the country at her boyfriend Slocum's request, Addy is faced with one (or two) unexpected presences that turn her life upside down.or the addybeth slowburn, friends to lovers, single mom AU that no one asked for.rated T for language, mild sexual/violent contenttitle is from Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night"
Relationships: Addy Hanlon/Michael Slocum, Beth Cassidy/Addy Hanlon
Comments: 86
Kudos: 202





	1. i. who's that girl?

**Author's Note:**

> okay I KNOW dare me just got cancelled, but i've been planning this fic for quite a while now and i still want to share it with you all. please let me know what you think!

_ “If music be the food of love, play on, / Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” _

Shakespeare’s  _ Twelfth Night- _

_ 11:54.  _ The steering wheel shakes with every bounce of Addy’s knee as she waits for a few more minutes to pass, even though she’s been sitting in the parking lot of Upper Arlington High School for half an hour already. Her fingers flex in apprehension, or maybe it’s anticipation —Addy thinks she should probably be excited about her life, with a new job and a new city, and yet it all feels like such a downgrade. She’s back in Ohio after eight years in Texas, cheering in college and then coaching high school squads, and even though her new place is only twenty minutes from Columbus, Addy is already bored of the midwest again.

She has to remind herself why she’s here, and it’s becoming a little mantra to keep Addy sane.  _ You’re doing this for Slocum.  _ They had reconnected a while back when Addy returned to Sutton Grove for a visit at her mother’s behest, and Addy discovered that Slocum was working in construction, ultimately never having enlisted.  _ Sarge Will left a bad taste in his mouth _ . Addy squeezes her eyes shut because she  _ cannot  _ think about him right now, instead shoving the door ajar and stepping out into the late summer heat that Addy knows so well. It’s nothing compared to San Antonio, but the Ohio humidity fills her lungs as she crosses the parking lot towards the worn brick building with ivy and lichen patched on its exterior. 

The  _ click, click, click  _ of Addy’s footsteps echo through the halls as she walks, head swinging from door to door looking for something administrative. She’s supposed to meet with the principal and set up in her office before her first ever practice with the Upper Arlington cheer squad. They’re not a hopeless endeavor the way Sutton Grove had once appeared, but Addy isn’t exactly jumping for joy at the long months of grueling training it will undoubtedly take to whip these girls into shape, since they haven’t had a coach in a few years. She’s up to the challenge after leading an underfunded Sa-town squad to a shining silver medal at States two years in a row—Addy gets results, which is why nabbing the job here was the simplest part of their big move. Slocum struggled to renew his Ohio contracter’s license while they bickered over where to live, but it’s all working out fine now, two weeks in. Addy feels a peaceful settling of her heart, like maybe this new chapter of their lives spent together will spark something in Addy that Slocum has tried for years to evoke, a desire to settle down with him. 

A high-pitched ring startles Addy, and she’s rushing to the side of the corridor as classroom doors swing open and students pour into the hallways, presumably on their way to lunch. She pushes against the flow of traffic until her gaze finds a “main office” sign in a window.

Once she slips inside and closes the door behind her, Addy is enveloped in silence, a stark contrast from the lively teenagers screaming in the corridors. She gingerly approaches the receptionist, wringing her hands while the woman taps away at her keyboard.

“Excuse me,” Addy says, and the woman looks up with a smile. “I’m looking for Principal Theado? My name is Addy Hanlon, and I’m-”

“Oh, the new cheer coach!” she exclaims, turning to point behind her. “If you go straight down the hall, it’s the last office on the left. Welcome to UA!”

Addy feels a smile creeping onto her face, and she wonders if everyone will be this kind. “Thank you.” She slides past the desk and heads down the hall, hesitating outside of the last open door on the left. The office is spacious, a few potted plants on the windowsill, beat up furniture pressed against the chipping walls. Roger Theado is bent over his desk, scribbling in a notebook until Addy’s sharp knock makes his head shoot up.

“Oh, Addy!” He stands from his desk, ushering Addy inside with a sweep of his arm. “It’s great to finally meet you. We’re so excited you’re here. The cheer squad has been out of commission for a few years, so this is going to be just great.”

“I’m really excited to be here,” Addy replies, and it actually feels sort of true. “I’ve seen some of the old videos, and I think there’s going to be a lot of potential for success.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Theado says with a decisive nod. “You’re an Ohio native yourself right? From up north?”

Addy swallows hard, shifting her weight. “Yes, that’s right.” She hopes and prays that’s all he knows about her, because she really doesn’t want to do the whole  _ oh, yeah, I am from that town where the cheer coach’s husband went crazy and killed her side piece,  _ and then  _ yeah, she did try to frame me for it, crazy right?  _ It happened enough when she first got to Texas Tech and the whole squad found out where she was from, calling her Addy French for the whole first semester. But Addy ignored it, and eventually it went away—a tried and true Addy Hanlon special.

“Well, we’re glad you came back for us” is all Theado says, and she can’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. “I can show you to your office and you can get settled in before tryouts start?”

Addy just nods and follows as the principal steps through the door frame. He leads her out of the main office into a large, central hallway, launching into a description of Upper Arlington’s history. Founded in 1907 and home of the Golden Bears, the school has become a top contender in almost every sport within Ohio’s Division I athletic association, but cheer has been just out of their reach due to cuts in funding. The building itself, Addy observes, is falling apart at the seams. Theado cranks up the charm, but Addy is smirking at the graffiti-covered lockers and busted floor tiles, a dated checker pattern that makes her head spin a little. 

“Well, this is you!” Theado stops in front of a window-paned oak door, opening it to reveal a miniscule office with stone floors and a metal desk. “It’s, uh- probably not what you’re used to, which I apologize for. It’s all we’ve got at the moment.”

_ It looks like a fucking prison cell,  _ Addy wants to say. “It’s great. I didn’t have an office at my first coaching job, so…” It’s a lie. She doesn’t know why, but Addy feels compelled to comfort Theado about the condition of his school and the amenities he’s able to provide. She can’t imagine what it’s like being a high school principal.  _ He probably wants to blow his brains out half of the time.  _ Addy steps further into the cramped space, which is empty save from the desk and a dented filing cabinet in the corner.

“Well, I’ve got a meeting, but the gym is just down the hall,” Theado says with a kind smile. “You’re starting tryouts at…?”

“Three-fifteen,” Addy replies. 

“Three-fifteen, great,” he echoes, slipping into the hall. “I’ll stop by and check in if I can!”

Then he’s gone, and Addy is left alone in the stone cell which, legitimately, has a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling by a wire. She dumps her backpack on the desk and pushes the door closed with her foot, noting that there is no shade on the window, so she needs to remember to buy one.

Addy really doesn’t want to sit in this nearly empty room for three hours, but the halls are flooded with students and she’s not that interested in getting caught up in a crowd of hormonal teenagers. It’s her fourth high school in six years, which seems like a lot to Addy, but Slocum is always reassuring her that it’s okay to move around in the years following college. When he brought up the contracting job in Columbus, Addy was fiercely opposed, only relenting on the condition that it would only be for a year. Addy knew, though, that Slocum would try to build a life for them here.  _ You’re doing this for Slocum.  _

Eventually deciding to unpack the few things she brought, Addy unearths her clipboard stacked with drills and circuits designed to expose every weakness. She only wants the strongest on her squad, because weakness is what poisoned her in high school and again in college. Addy will not have it on her team. 

She’s color coding a tryout Excel spreadsheet when the sound of the bell cuts through her thoughts, sending students shuffling off to class. Addy peers through the window, watches as groups of girls skip along and the guys slam lockers shut. 

Down the hall, Addy spots a head of chestnut curls and she’s thinking  _ huh, looks a lot like- _

But then the head turns, and Beth Cassidy is standing by a classroom door with a stack of papers in her hand, ushering in students. Addy blinks to clear the vision because obviously she’s imagining this, but Beth is still there, and she looks exactly the same if not slightly more matured. 

She doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until the door is open and Addy is walking out of the office, inching closer to Beth as she chats with a blond girl off to the side, more students filing into the classroom. She blends into the masses of people, inching closer until she’s no more than ten feet away, and Addy can see a generous dusting of freckles across her nose, no doubt from Ohio’s summer sun. 

But then Beth is slipping inside, gone from Addy’s line of sight, and the bell chimes at double-time. Addy rushes back to her office, closing the door and leaning against it, a shield to protect her from the harrowing reality she’s discovered.  _ Beth is here. She teaches here. Beth Cassidy is a teacher at the school I’m coaching at.  _ Addy swallows hard to keep her stomach from contracting, because she never thought she’d see Beth again—not after Matt and Colette’s arrests and their botched performance at States, and certainly not after senior year, where they spoke less than ten words to each other. 

She hears her old therapist’s voice in her head, from back in Dallas.  _ You need to be adaptable. That’s how you keep your mind from spiraling out of control.  _ Adaptable. At first, Addy was just supposed to be adapting to Slocum, tagging along back to Texas when she left Sutton Grove after her visit. But then she sensed a need to adapt to Slocum’s newfound interest in her, followed by his advances and his presence as a romantic partner. But now she’s adapting to a new school, a new job, and the presence of her tumultuous childhood best friend, whom she did not leave on good terms with. 

What are the chances she could avoid Beth for the entire year? Addy doesn’t even know what subject she teaches.  _ Probably English,  _ she thinks.  _ Maybe history, but probably English.  _ She knows avoiding Beth is a longshot, because this place only has about a hundred faculty members, and she’s willing to bet they’ve all heard about the successful cheerleading coach coming to revive their program. It’s only a matter of time, really.

She can’t resist the urge to navigate to the school website, scrolling through the directory until she finds it:  _ Beth Cassidy, English Resource Teacher.  _ Addy forces herself to close the tab and return to her spreadsheet, despite the almost throbbing urge to Google her and see what she’s been up to after all these years. 

It feels like mere minutes, but Addy jolts up when she sees the time on her computer change from 2:57 to 2:58. School will be letting out soon, and she doesn’t want to risk running into Beth in the hallway, so Addy grabs her clipboard and dashes out of the office and down the hall, slipping into the double doors of the gym. Half of it is set up for volleyball, a class of students beginning to clean up the balls and take the nets down. 

She spies an equipment room on the other side and finds some beat up mats deep in the depths of it, beneath unwashed football pads and lacrosse sticks. Addy drags them out and onto the linoleum floor with grunts of effort, eventually getting them laid out into a tight rectangle. She can’t wait for the squad to be formed, because then it will be  _ their  _ job to lug the mats in and out for practice while Addy watches.

Quietly, the girls start to file in, congregating in twos and threes while they set their bags down and eye Addy up. She feels them watching her and stands up straighter, arms crossed over her chest. Addy doesn’t know what these girls will be like because she’s never actually coached in Ohio, but if they’re anything like her own team was nine years ago, Addy can’t afford to show any weakness whatsoever. 

Her watch chimes with her 3:15 alarm, and Addy claps her hands twice to get the attention of the three dozen girls clad in compression shorts and colored sports bras. Addy can’t help the way her mind flits back to Colette’s first day, how they all shrunk under her heavy gaze.  _ Should’ve seen it coming. _

“Okay, everyone,” Addy says. “I’m Coach Hanlon, I will be the varsity- and I guess the JV coach, too. We’ll be having three days of tryouts, and our first game is this Friday, so we will be working  _ very  _ hard. Let’s start with bleachers.” She waves a hand in the direction of the rickety steps, and it takes about five seconds before a skinny blonde waves her arms to get the group moving. 

“You heard Coach, let’s go!” she says, and then every single girl is spreading out across the bleachers and running up to the top. Addy thinks it’s the same girl she saw outside of Beth’s classroom, but she can’t be sure. 

Addy walks the length of the gym with slow purpose, eyes trailing on each and every girl, mentally filing them into categories.  _ Weak. Just out of shape. Weak. Weak. Out of shape. Weak. Actually pretty good. Weak.  _ Some of the girls are doubled over after five minutes, and Addy stresses that they should not stop because every time someone stops, she’ll add a minute. Addy has all the control—she’s the only one who knows how long they have to run for, so the girls have to rely on their own mental fortitude to get through this. A tried method to strengthen the athletic mindset.

It takes twenty-five minutes for a girl to drop into a heap at the bottom of the steps, heaving in breaths. Addy approaches her and leans down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m- I just have asthma,” the girl wheezes out, and Addy rolls her eyes.

“Then get your inhaler,” she says, standing up. A simple problem with a simple solution. Addy doesn’t mean to sound rude, but her tone is acerbic regardless. “Everyone on the mat.”

The girls scramble to spread out across the padded blue material, and Addy launches into a circuit of exercises, resting a foot on hips that rise up during planks. They’re panting and sweating, and Addy gives them nothing—she keeps her face guarded and arms crossed, watching them wince and listening to the melody of their pained grunts. Finally, she lets them stop, has them line up. Addy steps up close and looks at each of them, surveying, inspecting.

“What’s your name?” she asks, stopping in front of the blonde who is easily the strongest in the group.

“Chrissy,” the girl replies, chin high. She can tell Chrissy is an upperclassman from the way she shouted at the group to get tryouts started.

“You’re a senior?”

Chrissy nods.

“You’re strong,” Addy comments, not with any particular inflection. “Strong legs.”

“I run track,” Chrissy replies, and Addy’s ears are fine tuned to teenage attitude—she’s heard so much of it, from Beth in the old days to the head bitches on her San Antonio and Dallas teams. But from Chrissy’s mouth, there is only confidence and nonchalance, like she already knows what she can do and doesn’t need to act out as proof. 

“Hurdles?” Addy questions, but she’s walking away before she can see Chrissy’s inevitable nod. “And you?” She stops in front of the tall brunette beside Chrissy, with bicep definition Addy links to softball, or another upper body sport. 

“Um, Margaret. Mags,” she stutters, notably less confident than the blond next to her.

“Well, which is it?” Addy asks with a quirk of her brow.  _ It’s your name. Say it with conviction.  _

“Mags,” the girl repeats, louder this time, and Addy doesn’t miss the way Chrissy meets Mags’ eyes. It’s too familiar, enough to make Addy dizzy. 

She takes a few steps back, scribbling a few notes on a blank sheet of paper.  _ Chrissy top girl? Mags strong base, lieutenant. Redhead and Neon Shoes have endurance.  _ In big, bold letters:  _ WORK TO DO. _

“I think that’s it for today,” Addy says with a nod, looking back up at the girls. “Remember that if you make the team, you  _ must  _ have white cheer shoes in order to practice. I’m not flexible about that.” She’s making that clear now, because she can’t stand a pair of sneakers sticking out like two sore thumbs amongst her squad. “You’re all dismissed. See you back here tomorrow.”

The girls shuffle over to their bags, low whispers slowly rising in volume as Addy leaves the gym and makes her way back to her office, shoves her laptop in her bag and slings it over her shoulder on the way out of the undesirable office space. The halls are quiet now, almost two hours after dismissal, and Addy revels in the echo of her movements. 

Addy is halfway to her car when she hears the chirp of an alarm, and she turns her head to see Beth climbing into her car. It’s a Jeep, but this one is black and slightly larger than the blue one she used to drive. Addy darts to her own vehicle, slipping into the driver’s seat and watching Beth start her car and pull out of the lot’s exit.

She was so good earlier, resisting the urge to look Beth up and stalk her online, but Addy doesn’t even think before she pulls out and makes a right, keeping a slight distance behind Beth’s Jeep.  _ Oh my God, Addy, you’re insane. You are literally stalking her.  _ The rational thing to do would be to turn off somewhere and make her way home, but Addy keeps driving until Beth is making a left into another parking lot, this one belonging to the elementary school and daycare.

Addy pulls in behind her and parks, but Beth is in the line of cars in front of the school.  _ She’s waiting for pick-up.  _ She watches from her car like a complete creep as Beth steps out of her car and heads through the sliding door, only to return a minute later holding hands with a raven-haired boy, Beth’s spitting image, clutching his dinosaur backpack to his chest as he skips to the car.

Her jaw is hanging off its hinges because Beth is scooping the child into her arms and situating him in his car seat before she gets back in the car, pulls out of the line and drives away. 

Addy is adaptable. She has to be. She tells herself  _ it’s okay, this is no big deal, just adapt.  _ This was  _ not  _ supposed to be a big deal, Addy was supposed to coach a team with decent resources and be as happy as possible with Slocum for a year until they move on. But now Beth Cassidy is teaching at her school and  _ she has a fucking kid? _ Addy makes the drive home white-knuckling the steering wheel, and if she wasn’t operating heavy machinery, her leg would be bouncing incessantly. 

Slocum is, unsurprisingly, not home when she arrives. He works late into the evenings, sometimes not coming home until after nine or ten. The new job is taxing, and he usually just wants to crash when he gets back, which is fine by Addy. She reheats some leftover pasta and tries to work, but she keeps thinking about Beth and that boy, her  _ son _ , and then she’s pulling up Facebook and typing in Beth’s name.

The first profile contains a photo of Beth smiling hugely next to the dark-haired boy, whose blue eyes shine just like her own. It doesn’t seem like she uses the account much, and Addy isn’t surprised, because Beth always used to say  _ Facebook is for old people _ and Addy would always agree. But there is a picture from four years ago, where Beth is holding her newborn baby and a man stands smiling behind her.  _ Meet Asher Christian Duval, 7 pounds, 4 ounces.  _ Addy hadn’t even thought about the fact that Beth would likely have a husband, and here it seems that she does. The man’s hair is buzzed and his arms wrap around her shoulders, their hands interlaced with both their wedding rings visible.

Addy keeps scrolling, but it’s the only photo of the entire family. There are a few of Beth and her son— _ Asher _ —in various parks and seemingly at the zoo, but the husband is nowhere to be seen. She pushes the laptop shut and rises, placing her empty bowl in the dishwasher and curling up on the couch. The Netflix original she selects doesn’t hold her attention, though, because Addy is thinking about Beth being married, having a family. Even when Slocum gets home, Addy is elsewhere.

She gets into bed and feels Slocum’s arm slide across her torso, pulling her into his embrace, and Addy feels her skin burn where he touches it. Ordinarily, she might weasel out of his grip and put precious space between them, but Addy just lies there, trying to sleep but also trying to make sense of it all, like she’d done so many times so long ago. 

***

“Ri, you’re never going to believe this,” Addy blurts the moment RiRi picks up the phone. It’s the first time she’s called since she and Slocum made the fifteen hour drive in a Uhaul. They cheered at Texas Tech together and stayed in touch even after RiRi moved out to Miami to cheer for the Dolphins, but it’s been years since they’ve seen each other in person.

“What’s up, girl?” RiRi replies. 

Addy leans back in the swivel chair Theado brought by for her earlier, an extra from the conference room, eyes skirting her still blank walls. It’s only her second day, and Addy is already busy enough to know that this place is  _ never  _ getting properly furnished. She still needs to buy blinds, which Addy is sure she will never do. “So I just started with this new team in Columbus, right?”

“Upper Arlington isn’t in Columbus,” RiRi corrects, and Addy can hear the smirk on her face. “You’re still a suburban loser. But yes, continue.”

“Shut up,” Addy whines. “But seriously, guess who’s a teacher here?”

RiRi pauses. “No way. French is out of jail?”

“No!” Addy exclaims. “No, not French,  _ Beth _ !”

“Oh! Wait, is that good or bad?” RiRi asks.

Addy’s feet slide off the desk and she stands up, pacing the small space. “I don’t know! She didn’t see me, so I guess she still hasn’t heard that I’m here.”

“You should talk to her,” RiRi offers. “You guys could clear things up, finally get the endgame you deserve! Wait, I’m  _ so  _ here for this!”

“For the last time, Rihanna, Beth and I are  _ not  _ endgame!” Addy huffs. “I have a boyfriend, and she’s  _ married _ . She has a kid.”

“How do you know all that if you haven’t spoken to her?”

Addy hesitates. If she tells RiRi that she tailed Beth’s car like a  _ Criminal Minds  _ serial killer, she’ll never hear the end of it. “Google is free.”

“Okay, smartass, you should still talk to her. Otherwise you’re going to be in for a weird ass year of avoiding each other. She probably goes to football games, you know.”

Addy groans, because her best friend is right. The last thing she wants is tension, a repeat of their last year at Sutton Grove High, but Addy doesn’t want to be the one to make the first move. 

RiRi soon excuses herself to get ready for practice, but she presses Addy on the topic of talking to Beth, and she relents by saying she’ll do it eventually. And she will.  _ Eventually. _

It takes her five minutes to focus again, but Addy gets in the groove of transferring names from yesterday’s tryout sign-up sheet to her digital list, and she only distantly registers the chime of the lunch bell. She left the door open, but now it’s too loud for Addy to concentrate so she moves to close it until a foot slides into the gap of the door, holding it open. Her eyes follow up a jean-clad leg and fall on the familiar face of Beth Cassidy. 

“I didn’t think it was true,” she says, sporting a crooked grin. “Thought everyone was talking about a different Addy Hanlon, or playing some kind of practical joke on me.”

Addy wholeheartedly wants to jump into a swimming pool filled with bleach more than she wants to have this conversation, because she can already tell it’s going to be awkward. “Well, it’s true,” she replies with a shrug.

“It’s good to see you,” Beth says, and her smile looks genuine, crinkling the skin around her eyes. It’s not quite a Beth Cassidy showstopper, but it makes Addy feel warm inside, even after eight years. “You look good.”

“So do you.” It’s true. Beth is wearing a blue sundress with miniscule white flowers, and Addy can see the definition in her arms. She clears her throat. “How, um- How have you been?” She hopes it sounds normal, because asking Beth how she’s doing when Addy knows more than she’s letting on is strange. _I better not sound weird as hell._

“I’m good. This is my second year at UA, I’m really happy here.” Beth is standing fully in the doorway now, and Addy has to force her legs to move back so she can usher Beth inside. “What about you? Last I heard, you were in Texas still.”

Addy wonders how she knows that. As far as she is aware, RiRi hasn’t spoken to Beth in years, and Addy doesn’t keep in touch with anyone else from Sutton Grove. But Beth seems to read her mind, the way she always used to. 

“I saw your mom at the grocery store once,” Beth explains. “She said you stayed in Texas after graduation.”

“Yeah, I coached a few teams down there,” Addy says with a nod, picking at her cuticles to avoid Beth’s gaze.  _ Do I mention Slocum?  _

“But now you’re here. You missed the great Ohio, huh?” Beth smirks, and Addy can’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t stay away,” she jokes back, and Addy can’t believe how easy it feels. “Where were you before coming here?”

“In good old Sutton Grove. I taught in Sterling Heights for a year and moved back. It’s even worse there than it is at home.”

It’s odd hearing Beth talk about their hometown, because it’s been much more important to her life than it has to Addy’s. She got out of there the first chance she got, while Beth stayed and built a life for herself.

“I got married, had a kid, everything was good,” Beth continues, staring out the tiny window near the ceiling behind Addy’s head. “Until it wasn’t.”

Even after almost a decade, Beth still buries the lead, but Addy thinks she has it figured out.  _ I bet the guy cheated and she went apeshit. Classic Beth.  _ “What happened?”

“Christian was an Army ranger,” Beth mumbles. “He got deployed to Afghanistan, and I got a telegram two months later saying he’d been blown up by a land mine trying to save his platoon. How do you explain to your two year old son that Daddy’s not coming home, that we have to mourn an empty coffin because his remains were ‘unsalvageable?’” Beth’s face is streaked with tears, and she abruptly reaches up to wipe them, like she didn’t notice she’d been crying.

It makes sense. The buzzcut, the sudden absence of family photos, the slightly vacant glint in Beth’s icy blue eyes.  _ She’s a single mom.  _ Addy feels like a piece of shit for subconsciously assuming that Beth hadn’t changed at all, when in reality, she had experienced a painful loss.

“Beth, I’m so sorry,” Addy offers, channeling all her sincerity into the words.

“It’s okay,” she replies, sniffling. “And, um- Then my mom passed a few months later, and I figured it was time to go, you know? Time to start fresh, just me and Asher. So we came here.”

Addy’s heart sinks. Her husband  _ and  _ her mother in the span of a few months? Beth had always acted out in response to the pain she felt, but they’re grown-ups now, and Addy wonders if Beth still reacts to loss in the same way.

“I’m sorry to hear about Lana,” Addy says, and Beth scoffs.

“Yeah, well, she’d been asking for cirrhosis since Bert screwed the neighbor,” Beth spits, and the acidity in her tone brings Addy right back to eleventh grade. “Not to speak lowly of the dead, but still.”

What Addy had assumed would be awkward becomes a long catching up session, sharing anecdotes and tales of their past eight years. Addy holds out about Slocum, still tentatively worried about how Beth would react to such a revelation. She and him had never gotten along particularly well, so Addy steers clear of the topic altogether. Their chat gets broken up by the bell, and Beth slips out of the office with a quiet “good luck with the team.”

Tryouts are a little more cheer focused on day two, Addy critiquing the minimal tumbling skills that a few girls exhibit, though most of them can barely do a cartwheel. Both Chrissy and Mags seem to have backgrounds in gymnastics and Addy smiles, because she’s found her captains. Chrissy, top girl, and Mags her lieutenant.  _ Hope they don’t end up like us.  _ She begins teaching them the routine that Varsity will be performing at Friday’s game, and it becomes increasingly clear who will make the team and who Addy will be forced to cut. Some of the girls can’t keep up with the pace of the choreography, while others simply have no rhythm.

She stays late in her office after tryouts making cuts to her list, trying to sort out a JV roster before she focuses on the main event. If Addy could have it her way, Upper Arlington wouldn’t have a JV team, but they have JV football and apparently those lanky freshmen need cheerleaders at their Saturday afternoon games that no one attends. She doesn’t want to deal with two different teams, especially when one of them is going to dissolve within a month and a half.

When her eyes start to burn from staring at the screen, Addy takes it as a sign that she should head home, and she walks past Beth’s classroom on the way out. There’s a hand-drawn sign taped to the door’s window,  _ Ms. Cassidy  _ in shaded bubble letters, but when she peers in, Addy finds that the classroom is sparsely decorated. The desk, however, is covered in loose papers, notebooks and haphazard novels, and Addy has to smile because it’s so perfectly Beth—messy and disorganized but Beth probably knows where everything is. Addy can hear her drawling  _ it’s an organized mess _ when questioned, and the thought is enough to keep her smiling the whole way home. She hadn’t expected Beth to be nice to her, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated a forty minute discussion about their lives filled with laughter and jokes. 

Slocum’s car is in the driveway, and when she enters, he’s sautéing vegetables in a large skillet.

“Hey, baby!” he calls from the kitchen as Addy sets her bag by the foot of the couch. “How was day two?”

“Uh, it was good,” Addy replies, striding towards the liquor cabinet and pouring herself a finger of bourbon. “Guess what? Beth is a teacher there. I talked to her today.”

“Wait, Beth from high school?” Slocum eyes her apprehensively, and Addy rolls her eyes because she can tell they’re about to fight over this. “Didn’t she turn the whole team against you? Make your senior year miserable?”

“We were teenagers.” Addy shrugs it off, downing her drink in one gulp. “She was actually really nice today. None of that old Beth crap.”

“Who says she isn’t playing you?” Slocum questions, plating their food. “Manipulating you like she always used to?”

“What, because I have a predisposition for manipulation?” Addy fires back, and it makes Slocum’s eyes go wide. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Slo. I’m not going to let Beth fuck with my head.” She wants to tell him that it was never Beth fucking with her head, because she knows that now, but it’s not worth the energy—Addy knows Slocum doesn’t like Beth, and that’s never going to change.

“I’m just saying she might not be as different as you think,” Slocum says. “People don’t change just like that.”

Addy is reeling at this, because  _ of course Slocum thinks people can’t change.  _ He refuses to acknowledge the mere possibility that Addy has changed since they were teenagers in Sutton Grove, and now he thinks that a near decade can’t affect a person at all. She stomps off in the direction of the bedroom, ignoring Slocum’s pleas for her to just sit down and have dinner. Addy isn’t hungry now, she just wants to sleep—hopefully rest will quell the headache blossoming behind her eyes. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Slocum follows her into the bathroom and wraps an arm around her waist, which Addy immediately evades. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s fine,” Addy says with a huff, splashing water onto her face. She doesn’t know why she’s mad, really—she’s only spoken to Beth once since seeing her again, but Addy feels like she might really be different now, like maybe they both are.

When she opens her medicine cabinet in search of an exfoliator, Addy’s eyes fall on the little orange prescription bottle half-full of anxiety medication. She’s been taking two a day for years now, but lately Addy’s been skipping a few and has felt fine. She didn’t take one this morning, and opts not to take one tonight, because she feels okay, like she doesn’t need it. Addy never wanted meds, couldn’t stand the thought of relying on them for her whole life, but now she feels like her anxiety is controlled enough by her coping mechanisms that she can skirt the pill altogether. 

Slocum disappears again—once he realizes that Addy isn’t going to eat with him—and returns to the bedroom once Addy is already tucked in with the lights off. It’s her way of saying  _ don’t talk to me for the rest of the night,  _ and Slocum knows it, so he just slips into bed next to her and keeps his distance. 

Addy forces her eyes to stay closed, even as her mind races with plans for Friday’s game and visions of Beth with her son. She worries about the squad, hoping she can motivate them and bring glory to the school’s name, and then Addy wonders if she and Beth could be friends, until sleep finally overtakes her.


	2. ii. me and mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title is from "yours & mine" by lucy dacus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter 2 of my brand new baby! and speaking of babies...

_ “There is no woman’s sides / Can bide the beating of so strong a passion / As love doth give my heart” (2.4.91-93) _

Hip-hop music blares throughout the gym, the thud of feet and clapping of hands bouncing off the walls. The first football game of the season is tomorrow, and Addy is just now having her first official practice with the two teams. In the end, she’d only taken twelve girls for each, leaving half the tryout pool to be cut —it’s sad, of course, but Addy can’t afford to fixate on it when the team she  _ does  _ have is struggling to nail the choreography, which is admittedly not challenging in the slightest. Addy has a terrible feeling she’s not going to have the time to teach this squad everything they need to know in time for Regionals.  _ This would be a lot easier if I wasn’t coaching the JV babies.  _

“Tighter!” Addy shouts over the music, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Chins up! Smiles, please, you all look miserable!”  _ Maybe they look miserable because they are.  _ Addy is working them hard, even harder than she normally would, but ordinarily she wouldn’t be stringing a performance together in a single practice. 

As the routine comes to an end and the girls strike their final pose, Addy spots a flash in the hall where the double doors are propped open, and she rolls her eyes good-naturedly when she turns to look—it’s the second day in a row that Beth has stopped in the doorway to watch. Yesterday, she didn’t acknowledge Beth’s presence, but today Addy turns and smiles, which earns her a wide grin and a thumbs up in return. 

Something deep in her gut cries out for Addy to beckon her in, but instead she turns to face the team and gives notes on the height of their kicks, the timing of their stunt dismounts and all the other minute details Addy can’t resist tweaking. 

“Coach Hanlon?” A voice says, and Addy pivots to find Principal Theado entering the gym, brushing past Beth before stopping. “Oh, Ms. Cassidy, I didn’t see you. Let me introduce you!” He beckons Beth into the gym and crosses the space to Addy. “Beth, this is Addy Hanlon, our new cheer coach. And Addy, this is-”

“We, um-” Addy stutters, cheeks burning hot as embers. 

“We know each other, actually,” Beth interjects with a soft smile. 

“Oh, how’s that?” Theado asks, looking between both women.

“Uh, guys, go ahead and take a water break,” Addy calls over her shoulder. If they’re going to have a chat, she doesn’t want her girls standing around to eavesdrop. “We, uh… We went to high school together. Cheered together.”

“Wow, what a small world!” Theado smiles and nudges Addy’s shoulder.

“Actually, Theado, I wanted to ask you about something.” Addy turns to face him, awaiting his nod before continuing. “Just based on the sheer lack of cheer background these girls have, I’m not sure I can dedicate my time to both the Varsity and JV squads. Not if we actually want to have a prayer at Regionals.”

“Well, I can’t sanction a separate JV coach, we don’t have the budget,” Theado explains. “But Beth, you were a cheerleader as well? Couldn’t you help out with the JV team?”

The thought had crossed Addy’s mind already, in the middle of the night as she sat hunched over her laptop at the dining room table, but she was never going to ask.

Beth’s eyes are wide, mouth agape with shock. “Wait, really?”

“I don’t see why not,” he says with a shrug.  _ Of course he’s for it. Saves him the money. _

She thought about it last night, Beth coaching alongside her, but now Addy is  _ really  _ thinking. They’d see each other every day, have to work together, and Addy really doesn’t know how to feel about that. It doesn’t matter how she feels, though, because Beth will probably accept the offer with no further discussion.

“I mean, is that okay with you?” Beth looks up at Addy, eyes brimming with hesitance. 

Addy is floored, and then her body floods with guilt, because she’s just as bad as Slocum in assuming that Beth would respond selfishly. The question is so simple, and yet Addy struggles to develop an answer.  _ Is that okay with me?  _ In the past, having Beth in her life brought more harm than good, but maybe now they can coexist in a merely professional setting.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Addy replies, surprising Beth along with herself. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep-”

“No, no, I could really use the help,” Addy says, a little quieter now that she can see the girls straining to listen in. “Besides, you’re more than qualified.”

“You probably have a few of these girls in your classes, right?” Theado asks, and Beth turns around to survey the group where they’re huddled in the corner.

“Yeah, Chrissy and Mags are in my AP Lit class.” Beth gestures towards the girls and cocks her head to keep looking. “And a couple of them are in my English 10 sections.”

“This is great, look how well this worked out!” Theado gestures between the two of them, and Addy forces herself not to wince at the way he connects them.  _ Being connected to Beth hasn’t always been a great thing.  _ “I’m going to head out, my daughter has a dance recital tonight, but let me know if you guys need anything!” He walks over to the door before turning a final time. “See you at the game!”

And then he’s gone, and Addy is left alone with Beth, who is now her assistant coach? Co-coach? She has no idea.

“It’s probably better if I just stick with JV,” Beth proposes, and Addy hates the way she’s always been able to read her like a book. Her face is too expressive, even still after years of attempting to tame it. “I can get them stronger, work on basic skills while you crash course with Varsity. That way I’m not stepping on your toes.”

“Yeah, that, uh- makes sense,” Addy says dumbly, mentally slapping herself for sounding like a flustered teenager. The way Beth smirks isn’t lost on her, and Addy distracts from the blush in her cheeks by calling the girls to attention, sending JV off with Beth so she can run the routine for the millionth time. 

It looks a little cleaner now, perhaps because of the break, but Addy is still a perfectionist and they run through it at least five more times before she ends practice. The game probably won’t be flawless, but there’s nothing more Addy can do—she’s already kept them twenty minutes later than she’s supposed to. 

She’s sliding her clipboard into her backpack when a foot nudges her calf.

“I forgot how irritating freshmen are,” Beth says with an exaggerated eye roll, leaning on her arm propped against the wall. “Their voices are all shrill and they take, like, zero direction, which is precisely why I refuse to teach them.”

Addy smiles, largely because she can feel that Beth is making an effort with her. “Yeah, I’ll be honest, I was definitely motivated by the idea of not having to deal with that. I’m sorry for getting you stuck with them.”

“No, it’s cool,” Beth replies. “I’m actually pretty excited, I’ve missed cheer a lot.”

“I always thought you’d make a good coach,” Addy blurts without a thought. Stupidity is a side effect of talking to Beth Cassidy, Addy knows well enough by now. 

“Well I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Beth replies, her smile betraying the nervousness Addy can tell she’s feeling.  _ At least I can still read her.  _ She glances at her watch, a dainty silver thing that looks like an antique family heirloom, and Beth is standing up straight from her previous slouched position. “I should go, daycare closes at six. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Addy says, and watches her go. She makes the short drive home with a contented smile etched into her features, because Addy thinks the two of them might actually be able to be friends. 

***

“You have got to be kidding me,” Addy groans as she digs through her backpack, searching for her laptop charger that she seems to have left in her car. She can see it in her mind, strewn across the backseat from when Addy had dug for a pack of gum this morning, and she’s huffing as she stands up and leaves her office. She wore sneakers today, a rather expensive pair of Nike’s that Slocum gifted her for Christmas, so Addy takes off in a run down the main hallway. She’s debating whether or not to go home before the game, because  _ there’s only three hours before I’ll have to be back, is it even worth it?  _ She nears the end of the hallway, turns a sharp corner and slams into a body at full speed.

“Fuck, sorry!” Addy exclaims, scrambling backwards only to find Beth gripping a stack of packets to her chest, laughing breathlessly.

“Jesus, Hanlon, since when are you a track star?” Beth chuckles, running a hand down her jeans to smooth them. 

“I was just going to my car,” Addy says, as if it explains why she’s running.  _ Why was I even running? _ She’s finding new ways to embarrass herself in front of Beth every day. 

“Was someone stealing it?” Beth asks, and Addy stares at her in confusion. “It’s a joke. Because you were running, so if someone was stealing the car-”

“Oh, I get it,” Addy nods and then laughs, because it’s funny now despite the delay. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. I’ll be more careful during my next meet.”

Beth rolls her eyes, but she’s letting out a snicker. “See, I got that one, even though it was lame. You can do better.”

“You’re right, I need to elevate my standards,” Addy agrees. “Are you staying here until the game starts?”

“Yeah, until I pick up Asher and bring him back here to watch,” Beth replies, “what about you?”

“I was thinking of getting something to eat.” Addy finds herself looking down at the floor, nervous to meet Beth’s eyes when she asks, “Would you maybe want to come with?”

“Oh, I’d have to bring Asher,” Beth says, gnawing at her bottom lip. “Is that cool?”

“Yeah, totally.” Addy means it. She thinks it’d be nice to see Beth with a kid, something that softens her. Addy can tell, even after just a few days, that Beth’s once icy heart has been thawed by motherhood. Her tone is significantly less acerbic, but she’s still witty and teasing, and Addy thinks the shred of kindness in Beth’s eyes looks good on her. 

“I know a great place in Marble Cliff, I can send you the address and meet you there?” Beth asks, and Addy is about to ask- “I think your number is still in my contacts, unless you’ve changed it.”

“Nope, it’s the same,” Addy replies, and she wants to tell Beth that she still has her number too. “Wanna meet in an hour? We should be back in plenty of time.”

“Yeah, perfect,” Beth says, backing away slowly until she’s in the main junction of the hallway. “I’ll see you later!”

She can’t help but lean against the wall as she watches Beth sidle down the hall to her classroom, peeking her head around the door to shoot Addy one last smile.  _ She’s still so fucking charming.  _

The so-called great place in Marble Cliff that Beth knows about is nestled on a clearing at the outskirts of the woods, a worn-looking diner sandwiched between a gas station and a Dollar Tree. Addy takes in the establishment as she steps out of her car—it’s a squat limestone building, red neon sign hanging just off-kilter, reading  _ Otto’s _ . Addy spots Beth’s jet black Jeep in the corner of the lot, across the cracked asphalt that she’s careful not to trip on as she approaches the door and climbs the steps.

Immediately, Addy is struck by the height of the ceilings, because she has to crane her neck to fit in the doorway.  _ How the fuck do men get in here?  _ The diner is mostly full, bustling with noise and life on a Friday night. A silver haired waitress stands hunched over the register, punching in a ticket and not acknowledging Addy’s presence in the slightest. 

She walks down the length of the bar, peering down the lines of booths on either side until her eyes fall on Beth attempting to drag a high chair towards a booth in the back, squirming toddler on her hip.

“Here, let me,” Addy says, reaching for the high chair and gently pulling it from Beth’s grip and over to the table.

“Oh, hey, thanks,” Beth replies with a grateful smile, but Addy is fixated on the boy in her arms. His dark brown hair looks almost black, tumbling in loose waves over his forehead, nearly covering sky blue eyes that are straight out of Beth’s sockets. 

Addy meets his gaze and waves, and Asher immediately turns away, nuzzling his face into Beth’s neck.

“Asher, this is my friend, Addy,” Beth murmurs into his ear, shifting him in her arms. “Can you say hi?”

Slowly and warily, Asher turns his head and drags his gaze to Addy. “Hi.”

“Hi, Asher,” she replies. Addy has always been good with kids, and she doesn’t plan to abandon that reputation today—she’s determined to get Beth’s son out of his shell. “It’s really nice to meet you!”

Asher just wiggles in his mother’s arms and turns his back to her.

“He’s a little shy,” Beth explains as she lifts him up and slides his legs into the high chair. “We’ll work on it. Oh, welcome to Otto’s!”

“Yeah, wow, this place is…” Addy trails off as she slides into one side of the booth. There is an extremely obvious hole in the ceiling, cracks descending the entire wall, and Addy thinks the whole place might be just  _ slightly  _ slanted.

“Falling apart? Kind of gross looking?” Beth finishes for her. “‘Tis true, but the food is amazing. Right, Ash? What’s your favorite thing here?”

“The mac ‘n cheese,” Asher gushes, little legs flailing in his seat. “It’s so good and they also have burgers! Mama gets burgers and I take the french fries.”

“I love mac ‘n cheese!” Addy exclaims, mirroring his excitement. “Have you ever tried dipping the fries into the mac ‘n cheese?”

“Woooaaah!” Asher howls at what is definitely  _ not  _ an appropriate volume.

“Ash, inside voice!” Beth scolds, but her lip quirks with the ghost of a smile.

“That sounds good, Mama!” he cries, a little quieter this time. “I wanna try it, can I?”

“I wasn’t going to get a burger, baby,” Beth replies with a slight frown, running a hand through the tufts of Asher’s hair that threaten to obscure his vision.

“How ‘bout I get a burger, and you can use my fries to dip with?” Addy offers, and her heart tightens at the way Asher’s eyes light up. It’s not long before he’s babbling to her about how he went to the big kid playground at preschool today, and he wanted to try the climbing wall but Ms. Rosa wouldn’t let him.

“He has way too much energy,” Beth tells her. “I’ve been meaning to put him in soccer or baseball or something, but it’s already hard enough to do everything alone without having to drive him all over Columbus.”

“I wanna do swimming!” Asher interjects. “Bobby does swimming lessons, I want to swim too.”

Beth lets out a massive sigh, and Addy gets the feeling this is a discussion they’ve had several times before. “I told you, baby, I’ll get you swimming lessons this summer. I want you to be a little older.”

“But I’m older than Bobby,” he protests, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that Addy recognizes from his mother. 

“And Bobby’s mom lets her seven year old ride a dirt bike,” Beth counters, speaking more to Addy than to Asher with an unimpressed look. “I don’t listen to a word she says.”

The waitress Addy passed earlier comes to take their order, and despite the rush of people, it only takes ten minutes for their food to arrive. Addy is conscious of the time as she chows down on the delicious burger, but she mostly focuses on Asher’s many stories—she’s never met a four year old with this much to say, but if you didn’t stop her, Beth could talk for hours.  _ The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. _ He’s bubbly and charming, with an adorably shrill laugh that makes Addy smile so wide her cheeks ache. 

“So, can I ask why you’re really back in Ohio?” Beth says after swallowing a bite of her BLT, and Addy freezes. “I mean, I know it’s not for the stellar food and entertainment, and we’re not close enough to Sutton Grove for it to be for Faith, so…”

“Slocum got a job here.” Addy figures there’s no sense in lying, especially if they’re going to be working together closely—she can only hope that Beth won’t have some kind of problem with it. “We’ve been together for a few years now.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Beth replies, and it’s almost convincing. Addy has to applaud her, because if she didn’t know Beth so well, she’d probably buy it, but there’s a slight waver in her voice that betrays emotion—which emotion it is, Addy doesn’t know.

Silence falls over them, and for the first time all evening, Addy has no idea what to say. Luckily, Asher chimes in with a question about the location of his dinosaur toy, which Beth produces from her purse shortly after—his designated emergency toy for outings like this—and then Asher is walking the dinosaur up Addy’s sweatshirt-clad arm and they end up making a whole game out of it, complete with silly voices and gesticulations.

It’s Beth who eventually has to usher them out of the diner for the sake of time, and Addy can’t resist waving goodbye to Asher from across the parking lot. His tiny hand reaches up to wave back, and Beth waves too, their near identical features making Addy dizzy. Seeing Beth’s likeness—in toddler form—staring back at her still shocks Addy, but she’s quickly getting used to the whole concept. 

They get onto the field at almost exactly the same time, but Addy immediately organizes Varsity into their sideline rows and stands on the track in front of them, while the football players are setting up to begin the game. They’ve only had time to learn a handful of cheers, so Addy instructs them to rotate through them and stop every so often to have a few girls tumble. 

The game gets off to a good start, Upper Arlington scoring two touchdowns in the first quarter, but by the time Addy leads the team to the tunnel midway through the second, the Golden Bears are down by five. 

“Ladies, this is it,” Addy begins, slightly self-conscious. She’s never been the best at motivational speeches, but times like these call for them. “I bet everyone out there right now is thinking, ‘this is a new team, they’re not going to be good,’ and this is the part where you all prove them wrong. You are the baddest bitches in this whole damn school, so go show them. Hands in.” 

Hands stack upon hands in the center of the circle, the girls counting down before  _ Golden Bears!  _ rings out in the tunnel and they’re running onto the field. Addy can feel eyes on her, but when she turns, Beth is standing behind her holding her thumb up, and both her and Asher’s toothy grins summon a smile of her own.

She watches critically as the squad performs, and save for one spacing error in the dance section, the routine is clean. Addy breathes a sigh of relief as they finish, holding their poses underneath raucous applause, and Addy looks back to find faces raging from enthralled to impressed amongst the crowd.  _ Maybe Regionals won’t be so bad after all. _

They huddle together on the track once the marching band begins their performance, and Addy instructs them to go use the bathroom and prepare for the second half.

“Ash, Mama needs to use the bathroom,” Beth says from where she stands against the fence, watching her son run back and forth in the track’s outermost lane. “C’mon, you have to come with me, I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

“I don’t wanna!” Asher protests, continuing his makeshift pacing.

“Asher-” Beth starts, and Addy decides to approach.

“I can watch him, if you want,” Addy offers with a bashful smile.

“Would you? I’ll be right back,” Beth says, and she’s off like a rocket. 

Watching Asher doesn’t turn out to mean a whole lot more than standing nearby as he runs, in circles now, warning him not to go too far. It’s all fine until Addy can see Beth returning to the track, which also happens to be when Asher finally takes a tumble—in fairness, he’s been pushing his luck with the speed of his movements. 

Asher wails in pain as his exposed knees hit the track, tearing the skin on one and drawing blood, and Addy hurries over to him.

“Oh, buddy, are you okay?” Addy asks, holding his leg in her hand to inspect the wound. It’s shallow, but she can remember how much skinning your knee hurts in the moment, and her chest aches as she watches Asher’s eyes start to well up with tears.

“What happened?” Beth calls, rushing to her son’s side when she realizes he’s on the ground.

“I fell,” Asher says in between sniffles. “Mama, it hurts.”

“I’m going to get a band-aid from the athletic trainer,” Addy stands up, rushing over to the home bench to acquire a bandage and some antiseptic before returning to Beth and Asher as quickly as possible. “Okay, this might sting a little, but it’s gonna make you all better,” Addy explains as she tears open the alcohol wipe and gingerly drags it across his torn skin, a loud cry escaping his body. When she looks up, she finds Asher leaning back in Beth’s lap, his head cradled in her hands as she strokes his hair soothingly. She makes quick work of the wound and places the band-aid over it. “There.”

“Ash, I told you to be careful when you were running,” Beth reminds him gently, wiping a stray tear with her thumb. “Were you going too fast?”

“Y-yeah,” Asher admits, clambering to sit in his mother’s lap and wrapping his little arms around her neck. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she says as she strokes Asher’s back. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Then Beth is looking at Addy over her son’s shoulder, and she can see the fear and anguish slowly fading from Beth’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Addy shakes her head. “It’s nothing, really.” She wants to say more, wants to ask Asher if he’s okay and crack jokes until he’s smiling again, but the football team is running back onto the field and the girls are returning to the sideline, so she stands and ushers them back into formation. She looks back only once during the second half, towards the end of the game, and finds Asher asleep in Beth’s arms. Addy wonders if Beth will leave early to take him home, but she stays until the final whistle blows, clapping her free hand against her leg as the Upper Arlington Golden Bears are declared victorious in their first game of the season. 

On the way home, Addy decides to call RiRi, dialing her number at a red light.

“What up, biiiitch?” RiRi screeches when she picks up. “How was the game?”

“It went really well, actually,” Addy replies with a smile, because she can tell her best friend is at least a little tipsy. “I had dinner with Beth and her son, and he’s  _ so  _ cute. Looks just like her.”

“Explains why you think he’s cute,” RiRi says with a snicker. “I thought you were trying to avoid her? What happened to that?”  
“You’re annoying,” Addy deadpans before continuing. “And I can’t ignore her anymore, she’s coaching JV. We’re colleagues. Besides, she’s actually been really nice to me.

“Beth was always nice to you. In her own special way.”

Addy rolls her eyes. “Okay, I think that’s a stretch. She always  _ cared  _ about me, doesn’t mean she was nice.”

“Fair enough,” RiRi concedes. “It’s good that you too are getting along, though! I had a bad feeling this whole thing was going to explode.”

“I know, so did I,” Addy admits, and she’s still not convinced the whole thing  _ won’t  _ blow up in her face.  _ There’s still plenty of days in the year.  _ “But things are good. I think we might actually be able to be friends.”

At this, RiRi erupts into howling laughter, cackling loudly into her phone’s speaker to the point where Addy has to turn down the sound system in her car. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” Addy demands, trying to cut through RiRi’s continued laughing. 

“Oh, wow,” RiRi says, catching her breath. “The fact that you think you can be friends with Beth Cassidy.”

Addy frowns. “Why can’t we be friends? I’m telling you, Ri, she’s not the same person anymore, we’re not going to be fighting three times a day.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” RiRi replies, and after a moment, it clicks and Addy’s blood runs cold. 

“Oh my God, how many times do I have to tell you?” Addy groans, turning onto her street and pulling into the ranch-style home’s driveway. “I’m not going to fall for Beth.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” RiRi says, and Addy can hear shouting and loud music beginning to play in the background. “Hey, I gotta go, talk soon?”

She doesn’t get a chance to reply before the call ends, and Addy huffs all the way to her front door, because RiRi is wrong.  _ I am not going to fall for Beth Cassidy.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you guys liked this chapter! i know it's a big departure from canon, but i hope you'll all stick around to go on this lil journey with me! also feel free to subscribe to get notified when i update if you'd like :))
> 
> i'm on twitter! @olivigay
> 
> and on tumblr! @sentientaltype
> 
> olivia


	3. iii. break and fold

_ “ _ _ O, you should not rest / Between the elements of air and earth/ But you should pity me” (1.5.243-245). _

The weekend was long and treacherously hot, and Addy is grateful to be back in the air-conditioned halls of Upper Arlington. Slocum insisted on keeping the heat off to keep their electric bill low, and Addy just waved him off, delving into her laptop for a deep dive of Ohio cheerleading States film from the past ten years. Addy had watched their routine from nine years ago, when they were juniors—when their entire pyramid fell apart due to a weak extension in the bottom row, bodies tumbling to the mat in a heap of glittered limbs. She watched the girls get up and dust themselves off, watched everyone turn away from Addy, and she remembered how they blamed her for the rest of their time in high school.

It hadn’t been Addy’s fault. It was Cori who didn’t lock her elbow, and they both knew it, but they also knew there would be no convincing Beth that it wasn’t all Addy’s fault. She was determined to hate Addy with every fiber of her being. 

The halls are marginally crowded, kids leaned up against lockers clutching trays of food, and Addy glances at her watch as she turns a corner—12:06, lunch has just started. She’s halfway to her office when she passes Beth’s classroom and turns her head to peer in the open door.

Beth is sitting on her desk, one leg crossed over her knee as she reads from a book, while a dozen or so kids listen in a semi-circle. As if on queue, Beth drags her eyes away from the pages and turns to the doorway. 

“Oh, hey Hanlon,” Beth says with a charming grin, one that feels inviting.

“Hey, Coach!” It’s then that Addy realizes Chrissy and Mags are among the students in Beth’s classroom, and _then_ Addy sees the books they’re all holding, the same one Beth is holding shut between her fingers. 

“Are you guys reading for fun?” Addy questions, leaning into the room with a hand still clutching the door frame. Her body feels loose after two days of sitting at a table, and she ignores the urge to straighten up in the presence of her squad members.

“It’s the Shakespeare club,” Chrissy replies, holding up her book for Addy to see.

“ _Twelfth Night_ ,” Addy reads off the cover. “Never read it.”

“Pull up a chair,” Beth offers, gesturing to one of the many empty desks. She’s wearing tight black jeans that end high on her waist, and Addy can’t help but rake her eyes up the length of her legs as she drags a chair over to the edge of the circle, adjacent to Beth’s desk. “Can someone tell Coach Hanlon what _Twelfth Night_ is about?”

“It’s set in the kingdom of Illyria,” Mags pipes up, voice tentative. “Duke Orsino is hopelessly in love with a noblewoman, Olivia, who does _not_ return his affections. Meanwhile, a storm tips a boat in the ocean, and this woman Viola washes up on the coast. She’s high-born, and she decides to dress up as a boy and work for Duke Orsino’s household, but then she falls madly in love with him.”

“And Viola has to deliver Orsino’s love letters to Olivia dressed as Cesario, and Olivia ends up falling in love with Cesario!” A boy with curly blond hair chimes in and Addy just nods, bewildered. 

“There’s a whole side plot about Olivia’s household, like the maid and the fool,” Chrissy continues. “But it’s not like, integral to the story or anything.”

“Chrissy, why do you say that?” Beth asks. “Because you could argue that the scenes with Malvolio in the dark cellar, where Feste is trying to convince him he’s gone mad, all symbolize something deeper in the play.”

“Does anyone else think it’s weird that Feste dressed up as Sir Topas to taunt Malvolio?” Mags interjects, looking to Chrissy who gestures for her to continue. “Like, the whole room was dark, Malvolio couldn’t see him dressed in the clergyman robes, so why do all that?”

“Maybe wearing the clothes makes it easier to pretend? Gets him in character?” Addy offers. “I mean, I don’t really know what you guys are talking about, but-”

“No, that’s right,” Beth says with a confirming nod. “It’s used to empower him. I think we should open discussion for a symbol: changes of clothing. How might those be significant in this work?”

Addy watches in awe as almost every hand shoots up, and Beth calls on a short kid in the second row. 

“I mean, the biggest one is Viola dressing as a boy when she pretends to be Cesario,” he presents. “It shows that the clothing has immense power, because the disguise was good enough to make Olivia fall in love with it.” 

“Very insightful, Carl,” Beth replies, and Addy can see the corners of her mouth lifting as she surveys the students. “What else?”

Addy sits comfortably in the plastic chair, leaning back and listening as the group goes on about the clothes, and then they’re talking about darkness and changes in language between characters and Addy is pretty lost—although she does find a few insightful words in the depths of her brain—but it all sounds interesting and she makes a note to ask Beth for a spare copy. 

“The bell’s gonna ring in a few minutes, so remember, Thursday we’re going to do some readings for different roles,” Beth informs the group as they start to stand up and collect their belongings, and Addy stands up to put her chair back. “Make sure all the desks are fixed for my 6th period, okay?” Then she’s hopping off the desk and sliding over to Addy, nudging her with an elbow.

“That was probably confusing for you,” Beth says, but it’s not patronizing. “You didn’t have to stay the whole time, I know you probably have shit to do.”

“No, I wanted to,” Addy replies with a lopsided grin. “It was cool, they’re all really smart. So are you. I never realized you were so into literature.” She knows how stupid it sounds the moment it leaves her mouth. _Beth had her nose in a book almost every night._ “I mean, like, Shakespeare specifically.”  
Beth rounds her desk and clacks away at the keyboard. “I got really into it in college,” she replies before standing up and turning towards the door. “I’m going to the copier room, you coming?” Then she’s leaving the room and Addy is following like she always used to, quickening her pace to get up next to Beth again. 

“It was really cool, hearing all of you talk about it, they seem really passionate,” Addy says as they walk. “Did you start the club? Or was it here before?”

“I started it,” Beth replies. “We read _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ in my classes last year, and I had some kids get really into it so I thought, why not?” Beth shrugs her shoulders and turns to look at Addy. “Hey, is Slocum ever gonna come to a game?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Addy shrugs, because she _doesn’t_ know. “He works late, even on Fridays and weekends, so…” She’s sure if she asked him to come, he’d try to find the time, but Addy doesn’t feel any different with or without him there. _It’s not like I miss him while I’m gone._

Beth nods, face pensive like she’s really taking in Addy’s words, feeling the weight of them in her mind. “I gotcha. I just thought, since he’s your boyfriend, you know...”

“You thought what?” Addy freezes outside the copier room door that Beth has one hand on. She watches Beth’s eyes go wide and flash with something that looks like regret before she composes her face again. 

“Nothing,” Beth retracts, shaking her head. “He was never my biggest fan, was he?”

At this, Addy lets herself laugh. Tension had coiled tightly in the base of her spine at Beth’s words, because Addy is at a point in herself where she _will_ defend herself if necessary. The days of getting pushed around are over. But Beth stopped herself from making any judgement, so Addy forces herself to do the same.

“No, he definitely wasn’t,” Addy agrees. “Still isn’t, I guess.”

Beth raises a brow in surprise, but her features soon melt into a dimpled smile, the dazzling kind that’s always made Addy unsteady on her feet—today is no exception. “Well then, I hope I don’t run into him,” she says with a wink, and then she’s opening the door and slipping inside the copier room, leaving Addy alone in the hallway. 

She’s halfway to her office when the bell rings, and Addy walks as quickly as her heeled boots will allow until she’s shutting the office door behind her. Addy needs to finalize stunt groups, block out the second half of their Regionals routine and send a few emails to other coaches in the area, but for a moment she allows herself to slump into her chair and picture Beth’s crooked smile—Addy curses her for still being so damn charming. 

***

By mid-week, the squad can manage simple liberty stunts and tosses and are improving quickly on the floor, and from where Addy stands, Beth seems to have a good grip on the JV girls. 

Addy has been working with Chrissy’s stunt group for almost all of practice, and they’re on their fifth attempt at a kick-single when Chrissy finally hops down to the mat and places a hand on Mags’ shoulder to steady herself. Addy knows the repeated motion can make you dizzy, especially when trying to focus on learning and perfecting the stunt, so she backs up and gives her some space, turning to watch the other groups practice liberties. 

“So, Coach, how do you know Ms. Cassidy?” Chrissy asks, and the rest of the girls glare at her as though she wasn’t really supposed to ask.

“I beg your pardon?” Addy eyes her with a raised brow, taken aback. _Is it that obvious?_

“She mentioned in class that you two knew each other,” Chrissy explains.

“We went to school together,” Addy explains, and she sees Beth’s head snap to attention out of the corner of her eye.

“Were you guys friends?” Jessica asks, the red-haired backspot with the shrill, cackly laugh that always makes Addy shudder.

“We, uh- Yeah, we grew up together,” Addy stutters under Beth’s watchful gaze. JV is practicing unextended stunts and Beth isn’t looking, she’s listening intently to Addy’s conversation with the Varsity girls. Somehow, Addy knows that Beth is trusting Addy to train an eye on the freshmen behind her, and she does. “Beth and I were friends for a long time.” 

“And what happened?” Chrissy presses. “You guys didn’t keep in touch?”

Addy hesitates when she sees Beth cock her head ever-so-slightly, as if she needed any more conversation that the other woman is listening in. “It’s, uh- it’s complicated. There were other factors at play.”

“What kind of other factors?” Jessica asks, and Addy doesn’t even have time to huff in frustration before Beth is stomping across the mat.

“Aren’t you ladies supposed to be learning stunts?” Beth barks, the aggression in her tone eerily familiar. “Come on, this isn’t gossip hour, I want to see this kick-single you’ve been working on for over an hour. Let’s go!” 

The girls scramble to get back into position, bases hoisting Chrissy’s feet to their chests before launching her up. Chrissy’s leg swings up as her body rotates, and she lands almost perfectly on her back in the woven arms of the stunt group—it’s the best they’ve looked all practice, and Addy wonders if it has something to do with Beth’s caustic tone. 

“It’s looking better,” Addy informs them, and Beth gives Chrissy a few notes about keeping her core tight and snapping her legs together. They’ve only got a few minutes left until practice ends, so Addy gets all the girls lined up and into planks until the clock strikes five.

“So, they don’t completely suck, huh?” Beth says with a smirk as they saunter to the back parking lot—the main lot had been full of buses this morning due to a field trip. Addy gets a good look at the grounds beyond the football field: the baseball diamond, two grass practice fields and one made of astroturf, as well as the tennis courts they’re coming up on.

“I mean, we’ve got a long way to go, but there’s potential,” Addy replies, reserving some skepticism for her team filled with mostly first-time cheerleaders. “They take direction well, which you can’t teach. You whipped them right into shape today.”

“Yeah, well, they know my wrath.” Beth twists her features into a mock-scowl before a smile cuts through.

Streams of students come filing off the tennis courts and down various paths, clutching their rackets and talking animatedly amongst each other. Behind a trio of girls in white and green gear, a short blonde emerges, and Addy nearly faints—it’s _not_ her, but the resemblance is striking.

“Hey, Beth!” she calls, and Addy watches the smile on Beth’s face bloom from either side, pushing dimples into her cheeks. The woman speeds up her pace, making a beeline for them as Beth waves.

“Sloane, this is Addy Hanlon,” Beth introduces as the blonde stops on the sidewalk in front of them.

“The new cheer coach!” she exclaims and extends a hand. “Sloane Tanner, Varsity tennis coach. Welcome to Upper Arlington.” She’s dressed in white jeans and four-inch stilettos, which Addy thinks would probably be unproductive for playing tennis, but she shakes Sloane’s hand regardless. Her jaw is sharp to match the slant of her nose, and the long blond bob is doing nothing to dilute her resemblance to one Colette French. 

Addy is expecting a few questions about how she’s liking the school or how the team is doing, but the tennis coach immediately squares her shoulders to face Beth and leans forward, effectively cutting Addy off from the conversation. Her shoulders open and she shifts her weight to one foot, and Addy rolls her eyes at the body language when she’s certain Sloane isn’t looking. _Could she be any more obvious?_

“How’s the fall production idea going? Did you talk to Theado?” Sloane asks, focused on Beth and paying Addy no mind. She’s obviously trying to summon Beth’s undivided attention, and Addy can’t help but smile when she meets Beth’s cerulean gaze over the blonde’s shoulder before she averts her eyes again.

“Yeah, he approved it!” Beth replies with a smile. “I’m hoping A/V will be able to help out a lot, especially since I took on the JV team.” She turns her body away slightly, gesturing towards Addy, who doesn’t miss the way Sloane’s smile falters a little. 

“Oh, well let me know if you need any help,” Sloane offers. “I’ll try to swing by the auditorium sometime, see how you’re getting on.”

“That’d be great,” Beth says, looking elsewhere. “And yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“I’ve got to get going,” Sloane announces. _Then go._ “But it was great to meet you, Abby! Good luck with the team.” The sly smile etched into her features tells Addy everything she needs to know, but there’s no time to respond before Beth is stepping forward.

“It’s Addy,” Beth corrects with a flat tone, and the smile all but falls from the tennis coach’s face as she nods and turns away, steps faltering on the grass.

“Wow, she seems…” Addy trails off, unsure of how to proceed. 

“That was weird,” Beth notes as they resume walking to their cars. “She’s usually really nice, I don’t know why she ignored you like that.”

 _I know why,_ she wants to say. “I don’t know either. Tennis is lame, anyway.”

This earns a chortle from Beth, and she’s nodding like she knows it to be true. “Sloane is super decorated, though. She’s taken this team to States, like, four years in a row, and she won Nationals playing for some D1 college.”

Addy bites her tongue to suppress the urge to brag about her two National titles with Texas Tech and two State silver medals, because there’s no reason to—Sloane Tanner is of no relevance to Addy, no matter how obvious her advances towards Beth are. _I don’t need to prove that I’m better than her. This isn’t a courtship._ She decides to forego a response altogether, electing to change the subject. “What was she saying about a fall production?”

“Oh, normally Drama Club puts on a play in the fall, but this year they decided to use the time to practice for the spring musical,” Beth explains with a humorous expression, like she’s just barely suppressing a laugh.

“What’s the spring musical?” Addy questions, already smiling because whatever it is, Beth thinks it’s funny, so it most likely will be.

“ _The Little Mermaid_.” Beth reaches an arm out to stop Addy, turning to face her with a serious look. “And they’re doing it on Heelys.”

Addy immediately pictures an auditorium full of bumbling teenagers dressed as aquatic creatures attempting to wheel across the stage, and a rumbling laugh ascends from her chest. “Are you serious? On Heelys? Why?”

“I guess they want it to seem like they’re swimming. But anyway, they need to practice heelying all semester, so Theado approved the Shakespeare Club’s production of _Twelfth Night_!” Beth looks beyond excited, even happier than she had during the club meeting a few days before as she practically skips down the sidewalk. 

“That’s great!” Addy exclaims, beaming until she realizes Beth’s club contains girls on her squad, and she doesn’t know how to feel about their attention being divided. Her face must contort with apprehension, because Beth reads her like a book again.

“Don’t worry, all rehearsals will be during lunch until tech week,” Beth assures her. “And it’ll be after Regionals, so they’ll be focused on that, I promise.”

“Remember how obsessive we were about it?” Addy reminisces as they approach the parking lot. “I wonder if they’ll be the same way.”

“I think that was just you,” Beth replies, a little more scathing than Addy expects, and she flinches like she’s touched a scorching stovetop. “Sorry, that was-”

“No, I deserved that,” Addy says, eyeing her silver car in the right corner of the lot. _I should just leave and save myself the embarrassment._

“It was a long time ago. I say we forget about all of it.”

A mysterious feeling blooms in Addy’s chest, the sinking kind that Addy could easily mistake for anxiousness, but she knows this is different—it almost feels like disappointment. Beth wants to erase their years of history, and though she’s referring to the bad stuff right now, Addy’s mouth fills with bitterness at the thought of expunging all the good times, too. 

“Good idea,” Addy replies and starts moving towards her car, spying Beth’s in the opposite direction. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you.” Beth strolls easily to her Jeep, and Addy watches from her driver’s seat as she pulls out of the parking lot and makes a left, careening down the main road to pick up her son.

Addy wouldn’t forget about all of it, even if she tried—she’s sure of that, because when she watches Beth drive off, Addy remembers how she used to like driving fast, and nothing has changed.

***

Thursday comes and goes with Addy feeling more miffed due to Beth’s words than she’d expected. Wednesday night was sleepless, and the following day is a zombie-walk where Addy lets Beth teach the Varsity girls more cheers for their away game while she “works on their Regionals routine,” which ends up being a nap session on Addy’s desk. She can’t stop thinking about their trips to Lanvers Peak, stealing alcohol from local liquor stores and getting obliterated at football parties—every time Addy looks at Beth, she sees the youth and innocence she had watched fade away as they grew older. She can tell that Beth notices, her gaze lingering a little too long on the bags below Addy’s eyes when she arrives at practice. 

Addy doesn’t bother going to school at all on Friday, since the football game is twenty minutes north in Worthington, instead electing to finally finish the Regionals routine from the comfort of her own home. Some of the stunts are challenging, but Addy has faith in the squad’s ability to pick up material quickly. 

Jitters run through Addy’s muscles as she drives, fingers tapping and leg bouncing—distantly, Addy remembers she hasn’t been taking her meds, thinking _maybe that’s what’s making me so jumpy?_ She writes it off, because Addy has always been a little hyperactive, and excessive movement isn’t necessarily a symptom of anxiety. 

The sun is beginning to kiss the horizon when Addy arrives on the field, Beth already standing with the squad—she offered to ride the bus from school, to save Addy the trip. Asher is beside her, leaning against a half wall and walking his dinosaur up its length while his mother speaks to the team.

Addy approaches and smiles when she sees the girls straightening up upon her arrival. They’re only doing sideline today, so Addy’s directions for them are brief before she’s lining them up in their rows and standing back as the game kicks off. 

“Hey,” Beth says, approaching Addy’s side as she surveys the squad. “Is everything okay?”  
A shiver runs down Addy’s spine, a product of crisp autumn winds cutting through the expanse of the field, and she turns to face Beth. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It just seems like you’re upset with me,” Beth replies, her shoulders dipping into a slouch. “You used to avoid me when I’d make you mad, and you’ve been avoiding me, so…”

When the cheer ends, Addy pivots to study Asher where he plays by himself a few feet away. “I’m not mad at you.”

“But you _have_ been avoiding me,” she surmises, arms crossing over her chest, crinkling the fabric of her leather jacket. “So was it something I said? Something I did at practice?”

Addy lets out a loud breath and nods when Chrissy calls out to confirm the next cheer. “Yeah, something you said,” Addy confirms, jaw set. _It’s probably better to clear it up anyway._ Beth raises her eyebrows, silently demanding an explanation. “On Wednesday, you said we should just ‘forget about all of it.’”

“Yeah?” Beth stares up at her in confusion.

Now, having to explain the reason for her irritation, Addy feels childish and sensitive for taking offense to Beth’s words. She chews on her bottom lip, watching Beth’s gaze flit from her face to Asher’s movements behind her as she hesitates to continue.

“I didn’t mean forget everything,” Beth says, and if Addy didn’t know better, she’d think Beth’s eyes were filling with sorrow. “I don’t want to forget the good stuff. I don’t think we should. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I-”

“It’s okay.” Addy waves her off, eyes flitting back to the field where an Upper Arlington running back has been tackled to the turf. “I knew you didn’t mean it like that, I just- I don’t know, I got in my own head, I guess.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Beth reassures her, placing a soft hand on Addy’s exposed bicep, and she’s acutely aware that this is the first time Beth has touched her since they saw each other. “I say stupid shit like that all the time, don’t think too much of it.”

There’s more to say, certainly, and Addy should probably process the way her skin burns where Beth has come in contact with it, but Asher is calling out for his mother adjoined with pleas for something from the snack bar, and Beth is whisking him away to acquire nachos for her squirming toddler.

It’s all so strange to Addy, so different—coaching alongside Beth, who is nothing like her former bitchy and acerbic self, and watching her care for a child. Addy can barely compute it, let alone react normally when Beth returns to her side with Asher on one hip, stuffing his face with mini corn chips and cheese dip.

“Ash, tell Addy where we’re going tomorrow,” Beth says as she bounces him a little.

“The zoo!” Asher exclaims. “We get to see the cats and the penguins and the _pandas_ -”

“Tell Addy which one’s your favorite,” Beth interjects before he can get much further on his tangent, shooting Addy an amused glance.

“Red pandas! They aren’t like normal pandas, they have red fur and they look like racoons a little,” Asher says, arms flailing in his mother’s grasp. “I have red panda pyjamas, and a red panda poster and a red panda stuffed animal!”

“Wow, you must really like red pandas!” Addy replies, matching his level of enthusiasm. “Wanna know what my favorite animal is?”

Asher stares up at Addy with wide cobalt eyes. “What?”

“Tigers,” Addy stage-whispers as though it’s a secret that Beth cannot hear. 

“Tigers are Mama’s favorite too!” Asher shrieks and Beth immediately shushes him. “They have tigers at the zoo. We go see them sometimes, and they swim in the pond, and the zoo people feed them. They live with the lions. Mama, do the lions and tigers fight?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Beth replies with a chuckle, staring fondly at her son. “We’ll have to ask them tomorrow.” Then, she’s turning to look at Addy again. “You should come with us sometime, we go every Saturday. Asher can’t go a week without demanding to see his red panda children.”

Addy hears Slocum’s voice in her head, telling her not to trust that Beth has changed and emphatically objecting to these plans. But she’s standing next to Beth Cassidy and her _kid_ , a well-adjusted and intelligent four year old who Beth has raised on her own for the past few years, and Addy refuses to believe that there’s nothing different about this whole situation. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“I can show you the pandas! I know all their names, and I know the penguins really well too,” Asher boasts, turning his body to puff his chest in Addy’s direction.

“Well I can’t miss that, can I?” Addy laughs to herself as the whistle blows to signal halftime. Free of their performance obligations, the girls splinter off across the fancy suburban school’s grounds with orders to return in twenty minutes, and Addy indulges in animal-talk with Asher until well into the third quarter when he finally falls asleep in Beth’s arms.

By the end of the game, Beth is waving goodbye to Addy and forcefully ushering the girls onto the bus, eager to get her son to bed to avoid a difficult morning. 

The drive home isn’t even long, but Addy has to crank the radio to keep her eyes open and her attention focused on the road. She prays that sleep will come easily tonight, sparing her the struggles of the past few nights—insomnia is not uncommon in Addy’s life, but it’s been a while since she’s gone more than two days without sleep.

Briefly, Addy hopes that Slocum will be home when she arrives so she can curl up on the couch and give him his daily dose of affection, which he ordinarily seeks out in bed at night. The last thing Addy wants is to be touched while she falls asleep. _You didn’t have that problem with Beth as a teenager, or RiRi, or Carly, the spotter from Texas Tech._ Addy shoves the thought away before it can fester, a common infection in her brain that Addy frequently fights off. The problems she has with Slocum haven’t always been problems, and Addy can only pretend for so many hours in the day.

When she slows down to make the right onto their street, relief washes over Addy in the form of an empty driveway. She parks on the left side, careful to leave enough space beside her for Slocum’s truck, and trudges up the steps with her backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Addy decides that the hot dog she had at the game is enough and pours herself a glass of wine in lieu of real dinner, curling into an unceremonious heap on the couch and pressing play on a nature documentary.

Ten minutes in, the narrator launches into discussion of the dwindling tiger population, a drone shot capturing a rare congregation of tigers in Nepal. Addy knows they’re solitary animals, and it makes her think back to Asher’s question about whether the tigers and lions in the zoo get along.

Before she can even think about it, Addy is reaching for her phone on the coffee table and opening the messaging app.

 **Addy (10:26):** _If I were planning to meet you and Asher at the zoo tomorrow, what time would I need to get there?_

 **Addy (10:26):** _Hypothetically speaking._

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but Slocum will be working all day, and she’d promised Beth at the start of this week that she’d come to JV’s game at four o’clock, so Addy figures _why not?_ She tosses her phone to the side and focuses on the documentary again, where a large tiger is chomping at the neck of an antelope.

The prey is barely dead when Addy’s phone buzzes, and she scrambles to retrieve it.

 **Beth (10:27):** _Eleven o’clock by the picnic pavilion. Hypothetically._

Addy lets out a low chuckle, electing not to respond and letting the sights of nature lull her into sleep right there on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! we're still in a bit of a transitory period, but the good stuff is on its way! please politely leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed :))
> 
> twitter @olivigay
> 
> aaaand tumblr @sentientaltype
> 
> olivia


	4. iv. better than that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay between updates! i'm finishing up my last year of high school so exams and coursework have gotten in the way, but i should be back to more frequent updates soon. enjoy!

“ _ For him, I think not on him. For his thoughts, / Would they were blanks rather than filled with me” (3.1.105-106). _

The Columbus Zoo is uncharted territory for Addy, but she doesn’t get a chance to take in many of her surroundings with Asher dragging her across the grounds towards his most beloved exhibit. Beth strolls leisurely behind them, pushing Asher’s neglected stroller, and Addy can picture her amused smile as her son shrieks with excitement over the prospect of schooling Addy in red panda trivia. 

Addy’s phone vibrates in her hand, and she instinctively rolls her eyes. 

It’s RiRi, tacking on an unnecessary text after their twenty minute call while Addy drove up to the zoo. 

**RiRi (11:07):** _ have fun on your date! tell Cassidy I said hi _

She uses one thumb to type out her reply, legs straining to keep up with the toddler in front of her. 

**Addy (11:07):** _ Not a date! _

When they approach the entrance to the Heart of Asia exhibit, Asher lets go of Addy’s hand and sprints full-speed towards his favorite enclosure, and Addy feels her stomach clench in fear that he’s going to fall or get kidnapped in the three seconds it takes for Addy to locate him again. His chubby, round face is pressed up against the glass, fingertips smudging it as he points to the animals inside.

“Addy, look!” he calls, and Addy is completely smitten by his excitement to share his favorite thing with her. She sidles up next to him and studies the enclosure, counting three red pandas in various trees and perches, all separated by stone walls with glass portions.

“Woah, they’re so cool!” Addy exclaims, and they  _ are _ , but Asher has seen them a thousand times and he’s more amped up than she is—Addy would give anything to experience innocent childhood excitement like that again.

“That one is Mickey.” Asher points to a larger red panda whose paws hang from either side of the branch he’s laying on. “He was born in the zoo. And Hima is his mom,” Asher explains, tiny finger jamming into the glass to direct Addy’s attention towards a smaller animal in the next enclosure. “They have to be separated because they’re st- so- what’s the word, Mama?”

“Solitary,” Beth chimes in from behind them, fingers drumming on the stroller’s handle. She looks so casual, foot propped on the stroller’s lower compartment as she gazes at her son with bright eyes, a lazy smile adorning her features. There was a time where Addy would have sold her soul to see Beth smile like that. 

“Yeah, solitary!” Asher echoes. 

“What about the third one?” Addy asks, gesturing to the enclosure on the far left.

“That’s Jelly,” he says, skipping over to watch in awe as the red panda makes slow work of climbing a tree. “She’s tired because it’s daytime, and they’re nighttime animals.”

“Why’d they name her Jelly?” Addy follows up, only to turn and find Asher ten feet away, flipping through a laminated book of red panda photographs.

“I think she, like, licked some jelly off one of the zookeeper’s shirts when she was born,” Beth answers with a shrug. “So that’s what they named her.”

“Addy!” Asher practically screams. “Come look!”

Beth eyes her apologetically, but Addy shoots her a reassuring smile and rushes to Asher’s side, listening intently as he babbles about the different red pandas the zoo has had over the years, as well as a detailed description of their diets and natural habitats. 

Eventually, Beth is able to corral him and directs their group about the rest of the Asia exhibit and through the aquatic portion, where Asher squeals in delight upon discovering the penguins are mid-feeding, before they land at the big cat exhibit in early afternoon. 

The joint lion-tiger exhibit is vast and overgrown, trees covered with dangling vines that obscure some branches, the central landmass surrounded by a moat of seagreen water. Addy watches two juvenile lions wrestle each other on a high cliff in the back of the exhibit, while a tiger dips his paw into the edge of the moat, contemplating a swim. Asher tries in a loud, pleading voice to convince Addy to flip through the photo book with him, but Beth quiets him down and ushers him to the podium alone to give the adults some peace.

“I’d say he’s not usually like this, but this is pretty standard,” Beth says. “Nothing gets him as excited as animals, for whatever reason. I don’t know where he got it from.”

“It’s cool that he’s so passionate about something,” Addy replies, eye trained on the tiger who accidentally slips into the moat with a loud splash before gracefully paddling to the other bank. “He’s probably excited to share his knowledge with someone that doesn’t know it all already.”

“If I ever go on zoology-themed  _ Jeopardy _ , I’ll be fucking set,” Beth drawls sarcastically, eyes darting to where her son stands a ways away to make sure he’s out of earshot. “He’s so smart, sometimes I wish he’d pick up a new hobby.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” Addy chuckles, mind running through all the possible hobbies Asher could acquire that would drive Beth even further up the wall than weekly trips to the zoo. 

In the gift shop, Asher spins through the aisles like a tornado, holding up various figurines, puzzle sets and other miscellaneous items that Beth tells him to put back, her patience never wavering. Addy is studying the picture frames, adorned with zebras and lions around their edges, when she feels a nudging at her leg.

When she looks down, Addy finds Asher by her side, holding up a small stuffed tiger with downy striped fur. His enormous blue eyes are impossible to look away from, and Addy’s mind dials back to all the practices and sleepovers she spent getting lost in that same stormy gaze.

“Mama likes tigers too,” Asher whispers, nudging Addy with the plush toy again until she takes it from him, getting the hint. Then Asher is emphatically stating his need to use the bathroom and Beth ushers him across the path to the nearby facilities, waving at Addy as they retreat. 

Addy rushes to get in line, waiting patiently behind two customers until she can place the tiger on the counter to be ringed up. Satisfied with her purchase, Addy saunters out of the gift shop and waits, until Beth emerges from the bathroom with Asher in her arms and plops him down in the stroller. 

“Who’s up for food before we head to the game?” Beth asks, and Addy nods, struggling to inconspicuously hold the stuffed animal behind her back.

“Food!” Asher shouts, kicking his limbs out like a starfish and grunting some unintelligible syllables. 

“Did you buy something?” Beth questions, attempting to peer around Addy’s back, but she twists to keep it hidden before finally relenting and revealing the stuffed tiger. 

“Asher suggested I get it for you, since tigers are your favorite too,” Addy explains sheepishly, a blush creeping up her neck that she blames on the afternoon sun. “Think of it as a thank you for helping out with JV, and for being so cool with me being around.”

“You’re a dork,” Beth chides, but the smile on her face is large and only growing as she accepts the tiger from Addy’s hands. “You don’t have to take my son’s word as law, you know.”

“No, no, I wanted to get it,” Addy insists, and she doesn’t know why she wants Beth to take it and like it so much.  _ It’s just a stuffed animal.  _

“Well, then thank you,” Beth says with a sincere smile that makes her eyes sparkle under the harsh rays, tucking the tiger into the stoller’s lower compartment before grasping the handle and pushing.

They end up back at Otto’s diner, the one with the caved in roof that made Addy slightly fearful for her life, and conversation at the table is largely centered around the art project Asher is starting at preschool on Monday. Addy isn’t hungry, electing to pick at her caesar salad even though she hasn’t eaten all day—Beth doesn’t seem to notice, scarfing down her burger and fries while picking at Asher’s chicken tenders. 

The JV football game is a pathetic display of the sport, and Addy can’t say much nicer things about the cheerleaders. Beth has taught them the simplest and most crucial sideline cheers, but cheering to a nearly-empty stadium takes its toll on their energy, and midway through the second quarter, Addy excuses herself to play hide and seek with Asher behind the track equipment shed. She can’t bear another second of monotonous chanting and half-baked smiles, and Beth gives her a good-natured eye roll as she walks off.

She knows she shouldn’t, but something in Addy’s blood is itching for her to  _ turn around _ , and she turns her head to find Beth watching them with a longing glint, desperate to follow them and escape her present hell. 

While Addy is counting down from twenty waiting for Asher to hide, she can’t help but look down the track again, gaze falling to Beth’s black jeans and Nikes, her battered grey City Tech t-shirt sitting  _ slightly  _ off-kilter on her shoulders. It’s a casual look for her, one that says “spending the day with my son” more than it does “coaching a high school cheer squad,” and Addy thinks that’s what she likes most about it—the fact that it’s far from Beth’s usual sundresses, pencil skirts and blouse-leather pant pairings. She’s simply existing here, cut from a cloth of her own home and juxtaposed onto Upper Arlington’s track to watch a sorry excuse for sports.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Addy exclaims, turning around to inspect the tall grasses and hurdles strewn behind the shed, which she notices has one door ajar. Addy ducks her head inside the shed, but it’s filled to the brim with indiscriminate athletic equipment, so she retreats—only to spot a pair of blue and green velcro shoes under the gap of the open door.

“Dang, kid, you’re too good at this game,” Addy calls out, purposefully walking away from where she knows Asher is hiding. She kicks through the grass a little, making a show of looking high and low, until she stops and taps her chin. “Where did Asher go? Man, I’m never gonna find him!”

She doesn’t want Asher to give up, though, so Addy pivots and makes a beeline for the shed door, pulling it shut and revealing a positively giddy four year old trying to stifle his laughter.

“I gotcha!” she says, reaching for Asher’s torso and lifting him up until he’s high above her head, giggling and squealing with delight. Addy gets the feeling that Beth doesn’t horse around with him much, because she’s never been the type to, so Addy jogs around in figure-eights while she holds Asher above her, his arms stuck out to the side like an airplane.

They’re both panting and laughing when she sets him down, and over Asher’s head, Addy can see Beth watching them with what seems to be a smile. 

Several races, wrestling matches and tickle fights later, Addy carries Asher back over to where Beth stands in front of the JV girls, passing him off to his mother. The game is almost over, and Addy ponders the thought of Saturday night at home with lethargy, reaching into her pocket for her phone only to discover it’s been turned off for hours. 

Addy can’t suppress her groan when the missed calls roll in—seven, all from Slocum.  _ Did I forget something?  _

When she gets home, Addy discovers that she  _ did  _ forget something.

“Where have you been? I was worried about you,” Slocum says from the living room the moment Addy opens the front door.

“At school,” Addy replies, the lie slipping off her tongue effortlessly. “And then at the JV game.” There’s no real reason not to tell Slocum that she was with Beth, except to avoid an argument about Addy’s former best friend.

“I told you I was coming home early today, so we could hang out,” Slocum reminds her. “But you forgot, didn’t you?” His tone is accusatory, but Addy can discern the pain in his eyes—he’s so easy to read, it almost hurts, and she knows just how to work him out of his vexed state.

“I’m sorry, Slo,” Addy says with wide eyes, crossing the space between them and reaching for his hand. “I’ve been working so hard with these girls, it completely slipped my mind. But it’s only six, why don’t we make dinner?”

“There’s a new risotto recipe I’ve been wanting to try,” Slocum replies, humming lowly when Addy strokes her thumb across his calloused palm. “Got all the ingredients from ALDI yesterday.”

“That sounds perfect.” Addy gives him her best smile, leaning in to peck his cheek. “I’m gonna shower, and I’ll be back in like, fifteen?”

Slocum nods and Addy lets his hand go, padding to the bedroom and closing the door behind her. 

She breathes out a heavy sigh, as if tension is leaving her body now that she’s alone, but it’s more so that Addy grows exhausted by her fights with Slocum and will do anything to avoid them—they’re both hotheads, everything devolving into a screaming match nine out of ten times. She knows he isn’t fully appeased, that she’ll have to do a little more to get them back to a neutral net, but that’s what the suggestion of dinner is for. It gives Addy some time to herself while calming Slocum down by directing him to practice one of his favorite things: cooking. 

He stumbled upon the passion in college, when one of his friends suggested they watch the Bon Appétit Test Kitchen on YouTube, much to Slocum’s initial dismay. But he ended up getting addicted, and his obsession with the videos eventually evolved into a desire to try it all out himself. Five years later, Slocum has become an experienced chef all by his own teaching.

Addy appreciates it more than anything else about him, because she’s a downright terrible cook and Slocum is the only reason Addy’s diet doesn’t solely consist of McDonald’s. 

She’s quick to shed her clothes and step under the scalding spray of the shower, allowing the heat of the water to ease the tension in her shoulders. Addy had felt loose all day, but now a dull ache is settling deep in her muscles, and she wonders if it’s from tossing a forty-pound toddler around like a sack of potatoes all afternoon.

Even after the shower that was meant to relax her, Addy feels like she’s on a hair trigger of irritation, and an exhausted headache sets in after her second glass of wine with dinner. Slocum is describing his latest construction project in such precise detail that Addy finds it difficult to follow, but then he’s asking her how everything with cheer is going, and Addy is sure to keep her responses devoid of any trace of Beth, because if a fight breaks out right now, Addy might collapse.

“Wanna watch something?” Slocum asks as he rinses a plate in the sink, turning to look at Addy where she’s leaning against the island counter. “We’re behind on  _ Big Brother _ , there’s like, two episodes on the DVR.”

Addy lets a sharp breath out of her nose while she smiles, because Slocum is really trying—she knows he can’t stand reality television and turns his nose up at any iteration, though he seems to have a soft spot for the competition shows. 

“I’m kind of exhausted, honestly,” Addy admits, eyes downcast. It’s a little bit of a guilt-trip, but Addy refuses to feel ashamed of it. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, I’m probably gonna read for a little and then knock out.”

“Okay, I’m gonna watch  _ Top Chef _ then.” He dries the plate off and places it on top of the stack in the cabinet before launching himself over the back of the couch.

“Night, Slo,” Addy says, shuffling to his side and pressing a light kiss on his lips, pulling away before he can catch her and making a beeline for the bedroom.

She curls up under the layers of blankets with  _ Twelfth Night  _ in her hands, picking up in the middle of act two and following intently as Viola discovers the true object of Olivia’s affections. Addy dozes off still upright with the book open on her chest, dreaming of jesters, duels for honor and professions of love. 

***

Addy’s Monday morning is spent stuck in parking lot traffic on the way into Columbus, followed by four grueling hours under the harsh LED lights of the Ohio BMV. She wants to scream  _ I’m just here to get my goddamn vehicle registered  _ at every sour-faced employee, instead grumbling to herself about how much faster this would’ve gone in Texas and how much nicer everyone would have been about it.

She goes twenty over the speed limit on the main road with only five minutes until the start of practice, and Addy practically sprints through the halls and bursts through the gymnasium doors like she’s in an action movie. Two dozen pairs of eyes stare at her, and Addy runs a hand over her hair to smooth it, dumping her backpack against the back wall before she crosses the room to the middle of the mat. 

“Well don’t just stand there, give me warm up laps!” Addy barks, and the girls immediately begin running in a circle around her.

Beth cuts through a gap in the stream of teenagers, coming to stand next to Addy and watching the girls with her arms crossed. 

“You were late,” she observes.

“Almost late,” Addy corrects, holding her wrist out and tapping her watch. “I had to get my car registered in Ohio again, and it took fucking  _ hours _ . But I’d been putting it off, and the temp plate only lasts 30 days, so...”

“Oof, that sucks.” Beth sucks her teeth. “Some of the kids in Shakespeare Club were asking about you today.”

Addy turns to face her, a brow raised. “Were they?”

“Ask Chrissy and Mags if you don’t believe me,” Beth says with a shrug and a smirk, in classic Beth Cassidy fashion. “But yeah, they asked if you were gonna come by again.”

“I’ll make sure I do,” Addy replies. “I’ve been reading  _ Twelfth Night _ . Pretty good.”

“Woah, ‘pretty good?’ I think you mean one of Shakespeare’s best comedies,” Beth says, tone affronted. “Where’s your literary taste, Hanlon?”

“Must’ve left it at home,” Addy deadpans before barking out an order for the girls to stop and separate. Varsity immediately shuffles into their stunt groups, already knowing what’s coming. They’ve been working on new and more challenging tosses since Thursday, as they’re all slated for their Regionals routine, which Addy  _ really _ needs to start teaching them. Except she can’t teach the routine as a whole until they can nail the stunts on their own, and Addy spends half of practice watching in frustration as Chrissy struggles with her X-out. 

Addy doesn’t really know how to help her, because she’s only ever tossed girls into the air and formed baskets, but she can see Beth eyeing them from across the gym while she works on tumbling passes with JV. She’s spotting girls and standing back to assess them while Addy looks on at every under rotated attempt in front of her.

Beth must not be able to take it anymore, because she orders the freshmen to take five and rushes over to Addy’s side, silently asking for permission to assist. 

“Chrissy, you really need to squeeze in your core for this,” Beth explains. “It’s just like a tuck, but when you’re looking down at your basket, separate your legs into that X shape.”

“But how do I get my legs back together in time?” Chrissy asks, and Addy winces at her wavering tone.  _ Don’t worry, I’m frustrated too.  _

“The momentum of your legs snapping shut is what gets you horizontal again.” Beth’s eyes are wide in bewilderment, and Addy wants to defend her lack of flying knowledge—she’s never had to teach a team stunts like these before, they’ve always already had the skills mastered. “Okay, I want you to try it again, but this time just think of it as a tuck with some extra leg movement. Don’t worry about getting the X, focus on getting all the way around.”

Chrissy loads in again and the bases launch her into the air, and while it’s far from perfect, the appearance of an X shape is there and Chrissy is almost fully rotated when she lands in the basket. 

Beth claps her on the back and immediately delves into more detailed notes, so Addy decides to silently retreat to Beth’s side of the gym and spearheads the charge for every JV girl to have their back handspring by Homecoming. 

After another grueling practice, Addy packs up her things and heads home, head swirling with excitement because if she’s basing her judgment off today, they might actually have a shot at Regionals after all.

***

Addy is digging into the McDonald’s bag in her passenger’s seat, fingers grasping onto stray fries as she cruises down 315, when her phone rings over the Bluetooth system.

She nearly chokes when Beth’s name flashes on the console.  _ Shouldn’t she be in class? _ Addy drops the fries back into the bag and accepts the call, leaving a streak of grease on the green button.

“Hey,” Addy says, sounding more surprised than she’d meant to. “I’m on my way to school right now, I stopped for food. What’s up?”

A rustling sound echoes through the car. “Addy, I’m, uh- I’m actually not at school right now.”

“Wait, what?” Addy questions as takes the next exit. “Why not? Where are you?”

“Asher’s sick,” Beth replies. “He has a pretty high fever, so I took a sick day, but I don’t trust the sub to run the club.”

Her mind flashes with images of Asher curled up in bed, sweat breaking on his brow as his forehead creases in pain, and even the thought is enough to make Addy’s heart clench. It takes her a moment to put the pieces together, to realize what Beth is asking her to do. 

“Oh, you want me to lead the Shakespeare Club meeting?” Addy asks, eyes wide. The school comes into view and Addy ungracefully swings the left turn into the parking lot. 

“Would you mind? They should be self-sufficient today,” Beth says, a pleading edge to her tone. “We’ve just been working out the cast list, it’s on my desk. But I know I’m leaving you with JV, too, so if it’s too much, I-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Addy cuts her off. “I don’t mind.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just cancel, we have time next week to-” Beth continues.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Addy cuts in again, the faintest wisp of exasperation dripping off her words, but she buries it with a deep inhale. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I hope Asher feels better.”

“Thank you, Addy,” Beth replies, and she doesn’t think she’s ever heard the former Top Girl express gratitude like this. Granted, she’s also never heard Beth ask for help, ever. “I really appreciate it, and you’ll be great with them. Let me know how it goes!”

“Yeah, will do,” Addy says, and then they’re saying goodbye and Addy is humming the dial tone tune. One glance at the analog clock on her dashboard sends Addy flying out of the car, not without first reaching for the paper bag across from her. 

Backpack slung over her shoulder, Addy rushes through the halls just as the bell rings, reaching Beth’s classroom and watching a nearly ancient man with a walker slowly slip through the doorway. As she enters the classroom, Addy finds Chrissy and Mags standing opposite each other with their books held out in the space between them—Chrissy in the middle of a dramatic monologue, hand draped over her heart while Mags watches with wide eyes. 

No one seems to take notice to her presence until other club members start filing in.

“Hey, Coach Hanlon!” A tall boy with dark hair and tanned skin calls, dumping his backpack on a desk a few rows back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“When Ms. C posted in Google Classroom about a special guest running the meeting, this is  _ not  _ what I had in mind,” Chrissy remarks, sauntering to the front row with Mags in tow.

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Addy says with a chuckle. “It was either this or no meeting, so…”

“Nah, we’re glad you’re here,” Mags replies, boosting herself up until she’s sitting on a desk to the left of her best friend. Addy doesn’t miss the way Chrissy’s eyes stay trained on Mags’ profile—how could  _ anyone  _ miss it, when she’s being this obvious?

She turns to Beth’s heavy oak desk, which looks straight out of some hotshot lawyer’s office, and Addy scans the surface until a lined paper titled “TN CAST LIST” catches her eye. She mulls over the miniscule scrawl that she recognizes as Beth’s handwriting, and Addy sucks in a breath when she realizes it’s incomplete. All the characters are listed, but only a few have corresponding names.

Addy holds it in front of her as she leans against the wood, watching quietly as more students take their seats, until she sees almost every face she can remember from the last time she was here. 

“Okay, so Ms. Cassidy is out today, as you probably know,” Addy starts, clearing her throat. “She asked me to take over today, and she said you guys are working on assigning roles for  _ Twelfth Night _ , right?”

“I’m off-book for Sir Toby already,” the tall boy from earlier says, smugness oozing from his features.

“That’s the biggest male part,” another boy—Addy thinks his name is Carl—replies. “You can’t just give it to yourself because you’re off-book.” Both heads turn to Addy, and she’s already being struck with just how out of her league she is here. 

“Didn’t you guys read for it last week?” Mags asks. “What did Cassidy have to say then?”

Addy glances at the paper in her hands.  _ Sir Toby: Alister off-book. Carl reads with feeling. _ She suppresses a groan and wills away the headache burgeoning in her temples.

“Why don’t you guys read for the rest of the group?” Addy proposes. “See how the crowd feels.” This earns her a smile from Carl and an eye roll from Alister, which says quite a bit about his popularity within the group. 

Both boys crack their books open to the same page, and Carl offers Alister the stage first with a sweep of his hand. 

While Alister begins reading, another girl chiming in with lines from other characters, Addy pulls out her phone and opens GroupMe, typing out a message to cancel JV practice. She tacks on a grim “varsity: be ready,” just to light a little fire under them. Then she types out another message, this one much more crucial to her current role as club sponsor.

“ _ Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have these gifts a curtain before ’em? _ ” Alister recites, the novel cracked between a finger by his side. “ _ Are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost-  _ uh,  _ why dost thou- _ shit.”

Addy’s head snaps up from her phone to find a few faces holding back laughter at Alister’s increased agitation.  _ He can’t remember the line.  _ Before she has a chance to say anything, Carl comes to stand beside him, takes one look at his book, and speaks right in the taller boy’s face.

_ “Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? _ ” Carl says, and his tone is looser without ever abandoning its Shakespearean cadence. Even with a single line, to Addy, the choice is clear.

As Carl continues the scene from where Alister stumbled, Addy’s phone buzzes.

**Beth (12:16):** _ Carl 100% for Toby. Better reader, better actor, and less obnoxious. _

**Beth (12:17):** _ Just tell them both they were great and I’ll decide on Monday. _

“This is nonsense,” Alister says when the scene ends. “Why are we even letting a sophomore read for the lead? This part is  _ mine _ .”

“Actually, the part is Shakespeare’s.” Addy can’t resist getting a word in.  _ Someone needs to take this kid down a few pegs.  _ “You aren’t entitled to it, no one is. It has to be  _ earned _ . You were both great, but I’m gonna let Beth- Ms. Cassidy,” she corrects herself, “decide when she gets back.”

There are a few roles that have been assigned already, so Addy reads them out to the group. “Chrissy is playing Viola, Mags will play Olivia, and Tim will play Duke Orsino.” The rest of the lunch period is spent in pairs and trios, Addy circling to offer help that no one takes her up on. She’s mostly a glorified babysitter, but Addy much prefers this to the decision-making from earlier.   
When the bell rings, Addy waits for the devastatingly old substitute to return before she holes up in her office, flipping through blocking diagrams and descriptions of each stunt and tumbling pass in the Regionals routine. Without JV to cause a disturbance, Addy figures today is as good as any to start teaching them.

Luckily, the girls seem to be in good spirits as they file into the gym before practice begins. Occasionally, some high school drama will break out during the school day and eclipse the importance of their two hours together on the mat, and it’s one of Addy’s least favorite things about coaching. No matter what she does, some days, her squad’s attention is lost to a higher power, one that Addy’s words hold no weight with. 

But today isn’t one of those days—as soon as Addy explains the agenda, every member of the squad stands up straighter. They spend the first hour solely on transitions from each stunt and floor sequence, stringing the routine together slowly but surely. Once they’re halfway through the choreography, Addy watches them run it over and over again, going over each movement and body position with a fine-tooth comb. 

Even as she shouts about the importance of this routine, how  _ Regionals is the culmination of everything you’re working for _ , Addy finds herself missing Beth’s presence. Ordinarily, she has the privilege of diverting her attention from Varsity to watch Beth commandeer the little freshmen with a vice grip on their necks—today, Addy’s gut twists as her eyes fall on empty space, and she returns to coaching with a drill-sergeant attitude.

She spends a few hours in her office at the tail end of practice, watching videos from last year’s States and critiquing the rosters of the highest ranking high schools in Ohio. Once she gets behind the wheel with burning eyes, Addy knows that it was overkill. She’s been working hard to get this team on track, to put them in a good spot after the program not existing for two years, but the laborious work means Addy isn’t quite as well rested as she’d like to be. 

The driveway is empty, and Addy is struck with guilt at the way her shoulders slacken upon the discovery. It’s not like she  _ wants  _ to feel exhausted by Slocum, but Addy’s been blaming it on their years of separation and a struggle to acclimate to this new life.  _ Even though we’ve been together for three years already. _

Addy doesn’t even want to bother with dinner, so she just drops her backpack on the floor, tosses her keys onto the coffee table and flops face-down onto the couch. Her mind races from her exhaustion to the team to Shakespeare Club to Beth, and then she’s digging her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, unable to stop herself.

She texts Beth to ask how Asher is doing, and she’s relieved to hear that he’s feeling better. Then they’re talking about the meeting at lunch, and Addy reads with a soft smile as Beth describes her ideal cast for the performance. It feels so easy, so natural, that Addy wants to get lost in it.

And lost in it she gets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed :) let me know what you thought, your predictions, likes, dislikes, etcetera! 
> 
> twitter @olivigay  
> tumblr @sentientaltype
> 
> olivia


	5. PLEASE READ *not a chapter*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi, guys.

hey everyone! I hope you're all safe and well during this insane time in the world. I was having a very productive quarantine in terms of writing and publishing on this account, but then I went back to work all summer and now I'm planning a huge transatlantic move before college.

BUT! I have this fanfic planned down to the last chapter, and it feels like a waste to just leave it on indefinite hiatus, so this is me reaching out to ask if anyone would still be interested in taking this addybeth journey with me? I know Dare Me has been cancelled, but I still love these characters and I would love to honor them with a real story here.

if you'd want to read more of IMBFL (or any of my work in general), please leave kudos and comments so I know!! Also feel free to share my ao3 account or this fic with anyone you know who might want to read.

thanks a lot guys, I hope to be in touch soon :)

olivia


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